


Immune

by isetfiretopeople



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Character Death, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2043195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isetfiretopeople/pseuds/isetfiretopeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has ended.<br/>Now the dead roam the earth and feast on the flesh of the living. Chaos rules as everything that Merlin knows starts to crumble around him. Now he is fighting for his life alongside an unlikely group of survivors. Soon Merlin comes to realise that the undead is not the only enemy. Particularly if anyone was to find out the dark secret that he is trying desperately to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

The steady motion of the train was enough to send Merlin to sleep. He clutched at the warm cup of coffee stationed in front of him in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

It was an unnaturally warm day for late-September. A bead of sweat made its way down his temple. Merlin batted it away irritably. The heat was doing nothing for his drowsiness and he was beginning to wish he had just stayed in bed that morning.

A middle aged man a few seats away sniffed for what seemed like the millionth time. To begin with Merlin had managed to ignore it, but upon noticing the persistence of the sniffle Merlin felt his annoyance levels rising. A few minutes later the man began coughing as if he was attempting to hack up a lung. Merlin decided he’d had enough. He pulled his headphones on, turned the volume up and retreated further into his own mind.

He turned towards the window, staring out but not really seeing the scenery that whizzed by. The train entered a tunnel and Merlin found himself in a staring contest with his own reflection. He looked tired; hollow eyes surrounded by dark circles. He grimaced, realising he looked as bad as he felt.

"Somebody help him!" The shrill scream was very much audible above the music blasting Merlin's eardrums. It startled him out of his thoughts and he turned to find the source of the panic.

The man that had been coughing was now slumped sideways in his seat. His eyes were bulging grotesquely from their sockets, his jaw hung slack. Merlin thought he saw a slight trickle of blood forming at the corner of his lips. A young woman, obviously the source of the scream, hovered above the man frantically calling for help.

The world stood still. Merlin slipped his headphones off, the music forgotten playing to itself. He wanted to help but as the scene unfolded before him he found himself unable to move. Even if he wasn't routed to the spot, Merlin realised he had no idea what to do. As he watched the man began jerking violently. The trickle of blood bubbled at the man's lips as he struggled to catch his breath. 

After what seemed a lifetime, though realistically was only seconds, someone brushed past Merlin and began helping the man. The helper pointed at the young woman.

"You, Phone an ambulance. Direct them to the next platform,"

Merlin retreated back into his mind for the rest of the journey. All remaining passengers were hurriedly packed into the next carriage. 

*

Paramedics were waiting at the next stop. As Merlin exited his carriage, he caught a glimpse of the ill passenger. It appeared that he had become unresponsive; large unfocussed eyes staring out of his pale, sweaty face. Merlin wondered vaguely whether the man would be okay. Whatever. He was in safe hands now. He gave a small shudder as he hoped whatever the man had wasn't contagious. 

Merlin decided to walk the twenty minutes to his campus. On a lazy day he would have caught the bus but something about the train ride made Merlin uneasy about sharing a confined space with a bunch of strangers. Besides, he could do with the fresh air. It might perk him up a bit.

More than once as Merlin was walking, the sound of sirens filled his ears as an ambulance or a police car shot past. It wasn't that strange as the university campus was located next to the local teaching hospitals. Sirens were heard on a regular basis. Though the sheer amount of emergency vehicles flying past did make Merlin wonder if there had been some devastating incident in the city.

A few streets away from campus, Merlin's attention was caught by movement ahead. A young woman, a few years older than Merlin knelt on the floor. She was situated in the entrance to an alley way, clutching her head. Getting closer, Merlin wrinkled his nose at the smell of stale piss coming from the alley. The floor was littered with empty bottles, cigarette butts and other miscellaneous rubbish. With a jolt Merlin realised that her fingers and her summer dress were coated in blood.

A few steps away he called out "hey, are you okay?"

It was a stupid question. He knew that. The woman didn't respond. She continued to stare at the floor, a steady drip, drip, drip falling from her bloody fingers. 

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Something was very wrong. He took a step closer to the woman, taking in the rip on her dress. There was exposed flesh below. Mangled and torn. 

"Can you tell me what happened?" Merlin tried again, taking out his phone, intending to dial an ambulance. 

Again, the woman did not answer. Tentatively, Merlin took another step closer. As his foot touched the ground in front of her, the woman's head snapped up, eyes connecting with Merlin's.

Her eyes were devoid of emotion. No pain seemed to register on her face though she ought to be writhing in agony based on the lump missing from her side. Merlin opened his mouth to speak again, to tell her he would get help when the woman let out a low growl. Her once emotionless eyes were filled with an animalistic rage. Merlin barely had any chance to take this in before she pounced.

She was on him, barely hindered by the hole in her side. Nails scratching at his torso. He attempted to grab hold of her arms and pin them by her side, but her flails were too powerful. Still, she flung herself at him, surprisingly strong for a woman so small. Merlin stumbled backwards, landing on the floor with a loud bump. He barely registered the pain though as the woman wasted no time in straddling Merlin's chest. 

Merlin's mind raced. What was happening to him? He really should have stopped in bed this morning he thought grimly. She was ripping at his scarf, exposing the skin on his neck. He clawed at her hands, forcing them away but instead she leant forward, sinking her teeth into his soft, pale flesh.

Merlin cried out in pain. His mind was blank. He was consumed by the everlasting, white hot pain in his neck. It took him a few seconds, therefore, to realise that the woman had stopped attacking him. She lay across the pavement in front of him, apparently unconscious. It was then that Merlin noticed the shattered bottleneck that he was still clutching. The glass embedded in the side of the woman's head. 

Merlin felt sick. In his panic, he had realised, he had grabbed the nearest object, using it to disable his attacker. Oh god. What if he'd killed her? Merlin felt the warm trickle of blood and decided that he had no desire to find out. His head was spinning. He needed to find help. 

Standing shakily, his head spinning, Merlin readjusted his scarf in an attempt to steady the blood flow. Looking down the alley way he noticed a door standing ajar. Perhaps there was someone in there that would be able to help. 

His heart was pounding painfully against his ribcage by the time Merlin reached the door. Glancing behind him Merlin noted that the woman had not moved. 

"Hello?" He called out, pushing the door open. 

No answer.

Merlin slowly entered the room, the movement causing his head to spin further and his vision to blur. He leant against the wall as he tried to regain his composure, the door swinging closed behind him.

He tried to call out again, but the pain in his head intensified. The edges of his vision were turning dark and Merlin realised too late as the floor rushed up to meet his face that he was about to collapse. 

*

Arthur's head was sore. The buzzing of his alarm clock did nothing to help the pounding. Why had he stayed out until ridiculous o'clock in the morning when he had a 9am lecture? He would never learn. 

Fresher's week had ended a few days ago but that hadn't stopped Arthur and his buddies from partying hard every opportunity they had. Everyone knew that first year was basically an excuse to get wasted twenty-four-seven, eat cereal for every meal and to sleep with as many people as possible. 

Despite all this Arthur was reluctant to miss any lectures just in case he missed something important for when it really did matter.

He rolled out of bed and into the end suite bathroom, washing quickly. He donned a pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt. Despite having washed, he could already feel the sweat making his clothes stick to his body. It was going to be a long and tedious day. 

He wondered into the communal kitchen. This had been the most expensive and nicest of the student halls, however now after mere weeks of living here it looked much the same as any student accommodation. Pint glasses, many stolen from the frequent pub crawls, were scattered across the surfaces. In the window, someone had started a collection of empty larger cans. The kitchen sink was piled high with unwashed dishes. Arthur pulled out a box of cornflakes before realising that he had no clean bowls. He eyed the pile in the sink, deciding that it was a task for when his head was less foggy and instead resorted to eating his breakfast from a mug. 

There was a muffled banging coming from upstairs, along with a couple of girls screaming. He wondered idly what had got them so excited but decided that he probably didn't want to know. 

By the time Arthur had finished eating it was ten to nine. There was just enough time for a leisurely stroll across to the lecture hall.

Halfway across campus, Arthur spotted a familiar figure walking ahead of him. Ewan was from the same halls as Arthur. He lived a couple of floors below, but they'd both frequented each other's common areas enough to be on friendly terms. Ewan's gait seemed somewhat irregular, as if walking caused him pain. Arthur wondered what antics Ewan and his mates had been up to the previous night. 

"Hey Ewan, wait up," Arthur called out. 

Ewan stopped suddenly. Slowly he turned in Arthur's direction. His eyes appeared unfocussed as if he was struggling to take in his surroundings. The smile slipped from Arthur's face. Something was dreadfully wrong with his friend.

"Hey buddy, you alright?" Arthur asked. He strode forward intending to help to prop Ewan up.

Ewan let out an ear splitting screech, stopping Arthur in his tracks.

"What's up?" Arthur asked, wearily surveying the look in Ewan's eyes. They had gone from roaming and unfocussed to staring and fixed on Arthur, full of anger and hate. Hastily, Arthur cast his mind back trying to remember if he had offended the boy in front of him. He drew a blank.

And then Ewan was charging straight towards Arthur, teeth bared and eyes wild. As he pounced, Arthur noticed the odd angle at which Ewan's ankle was bent. He wouldn't have been surprised if it was broken though Ewan seemed unfazed. Arthur did not dwell, however, as he realised that if he did not act quickly, Ewan would be on him. 

And so he ran. He ran past Ewan towards the building ahead. He turned to see that Ewan had halted once more and was turning to face Arthur again. He let out another dreadful scream and began to charge. Arthur darted inside the building. Ewan collided with the door, hammering on the window and pushing his face up at the glass. In his panic, Arthur didn't notice that Ewan had not bothered to try the door handle.

Arthur burst into the lecture hall, surprised to see only a handful of people scattered across the seats. Usually he was one of the last to arrive. Come to think of it, he had not seen anyone else on campus so far. 

"What's up with you?" A familiar voice asked from the back of the room. Arthur looked up to see his half-sister, Morgana sat in the back row.

"Some guy just went ape-shit and tried to attack me," Arthur explained breathlessly. 

Morgana raised an eyebrow and looked across the room.

"Seems like there's a lot of people randomly going ape-shit today," a guy said. Arthur recognised him as being in the same tutor group as he was. His name was Gwaine. 

"What do you mean?"

"On my way in I passed this guy. He was sat on top of some girl. I thought something dodgy was going on so I shouted across to him," Gwaine trailed off.

"And?" Arthur asked, wondering where this was going.

"Something dodgy was going on but not in the way I imagined. He was eating her. Like actually fucking eating her. Just sat there casually munching on her innards, blood all over his face. As soon as he saw me he just ran at me. I thought fuck that, I'm not sticking around to see what happens next. So I legged it," 

"What the actual fuck," Arthur breathed. The rest of the room was quiet. A lot of people looked scared, wide eyed and pale. After a few moments Arthur said "didn't you like, phone the police or something?"

Gwaine shrugged. "Didn't even occur to me. I just ran straight here,"

"Why would you just casually go to your lecture after something like that?" Arthur asked, panic sloshing about in his stomach. He was starting to think that this was more than a few crazy people on campus.

"Why would you?" Gwaine shot back.

"Good point," Arthur said, sinking into the nearest chair. 

"Where's your attacker?" Morgana asked. 

"Outside. Banging on the door," 

"He didn't follow you in?" She said. Arthur could tell that she was also starting to panic, though to a majority of the room's occupants Morgana would look just as composed as ever.

Arthur thought about it. "I don't think he realised how to use the handle,"

There was no response as the occupants of the room mulled this over. Minutes passed by before the silence was broken.

"This is fucked up," it was Morgause, a close friend of Morgana. There was a murmur of general agreement. Arthur got the impression that perhaps he and Gwaine were not the only people that had seen the strange behaviour this morning though no one else chose to share their stories. 

"What do we do now?" Gwen asked. Arthur had not noticed her huddled in the corner of the room, a haunted look on her face. He knew Gwen through his friend Lancelot. Lance and Arthur lived on the same floor in the halls. During fresher's week Lancelot had met Gwen and instantly hit it off. She was a frequent guest of their house parties. 

Again there was no response. 

"Maybe we should just call the police?" Gwen suggested.

In response Morgana pulled out her phone and dialled the emergency number. After a few moments she hung up. 

"It's an automated message," she said. "Telling people to stay indoors, to lock all doors and windows and to stay calm," 

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. "Can they even do that?" 

"Apparently so," Morgana replied, gesturing to her phone. She tapped the screen a few times. "It's all over Facebook. Everyone's gone mental. Lots of biting,"

"This is something big then," Gwaine said. "It's not just us,"

"Shit," several people muttered the word simultaneously as the reality of the situation struck. Something was causing people to go turn on each other in the most brutal ways and here they were, stuck inside a lecture theatre. 

The silence was punctuated suddenly by the sound of shattering glass. 

"I think Ewan found a way in," Arthur said.

As one, everyone in the room moved. Moving desks and bookshelves to barricade the door. Any furniture that could be moved went to the barricade. No one spoke. It was as if they were reading each other's minds. Arthur thought he knew what they were all thinking. That they were not going to be eaten alive. 

The silence was broken by a faint buzzing. Someone's phone was ringing. 

"Lance!" Gwen answered her phone. "I'm okay... I'm with friends. Arthur and Morgana... the lecture hall, main building. Where are you? No. Lance.... Please. It's dangerous. Lance," Gwen went silent for a moment before hanging up. 

"He said he's coming to find us," she whispered. Arthur noticed a silent tear running down her cheek. She was worried. 

"Watch for him coming," Arthur said. "When he's nearby I'll move the barricade,"

The blinds, up until now, had remained closed. Gwaine set about opening them so they could keep watch. 

Arthur's stomach lurched. Ewan had apparently given up his fight with the door and was now wondering around a few feet away from the windows. There was a series of grazes across his face leading Arthur to believe that he had shattered the glass with his head. Ewan was no longer alone. There were a handful of other people wondering across the tarmac, seemingly aimlessly. 

Glancing at the others, he saw his own expression mirrored. Wide eyed panic. Gwaine looked like he might be sick. Arthur followed his line of sight and instantly knew why. He was watching a girl limping towards the building. She had the same vacant expression as the other people. And her stomach was ripped open, a length of guts falling from the hole, dragging on the floor behind her. 

"That's her," Gwaine whispered. "That's the girl I saw being attacked,"

The already charged atmosphere seemed to intensify. If people were not panicking they were now. There was no way that girl should be able to walk around with an injury like that.

Moments later, Lancelot came into view. His shirt was speckled in blood, face serious. He caught sight of the group in the window and gave a quick wave. Arthur moved towards the barricade. 

Lancelot kept close to the building walls, sneaking past the wondering monsters. His lips pressed in a thin line, brow furrowed in concentration. The group in the lecture hall watched with baited breath. He was close now. Arthur began shifting the barricade, making a route inside for his friend. 

"Nooooooo!" Gwen's shriek filled the room. Arthur snapped his head towards her. She was staring horrified at Lancelot. Two men had jumped him from behind, dragging him to the ground. One had his jaw clamped firmly on Lancelot's arm, the other tearing chunks from his leg.

"We need to help him!" Gwen shouted, rushing to the door. She began flinging furniture away with surprising strength but Arthur could see the shaking of her hands as she worked.

"He's stopped moving," Morgana announced. 

"We still need to get him," Gwen said.

"I think he's gone," Gwaine said, placing a comforting hand on Gwen's shoulder. 

Arthur nodded, realising what the others were saying. Lancelot was dead. There was nothing they could do to help him. His guts twisted uncomfortably. The second friend he had lost in one morning. And that was just the ones he knew about. He took a deep breath.

"We can't go out there," he decided. "You saw what happened to Lance. It will happen to us too,"

He reached forward just in time to catch Gwen just as her knees buckled underneath her. Arthur lowered her to the floor where she clung to him, sobbing quietly into his T-shirt. He wanted to tell her that it was alright, but he knew that was a lie. Things were far from alright. Instead Arthur remained quiet, tracing soothing circles on her back, desperately ignoring the tears that were prickling the corner of his eyes. 

Someone drew the blinds again, presumably to spare them from staring at Lancelot's lifeless form. Arthur didn't know how long it was until the silence was broken. Minutes dragged by, the air feeling dense and heavy. It weighed down on Arthur's chest, restricting his ability to breath. His mind raced, searching for a rational explanation to what was happening. He tried to push the thoughts out of his head, instead focussing on stroking Gwen's soft curls. 

She was still crying but the loud sobs had dissolved into slightly quieter sniffles and hiccups. Every so often she wiped desperately at her nose with the back of her hand.

Arthur glanced around the lecture hall, making sure that he knew everyone in the group. Besides those that had already spoken there was one other occupant. He sat alone at the far end of the room, brow knitted together in concentration as he bent over a notepad scribbling furiously. At that moment, as if sensing Arthur's stare, he looked up. His icy blue eyes, surrounded by a thick layer of eyeliner were hard and serious. 

Arthur had never heard Mordred speak but he was aware of who he was. He was the kid that, after taking his A-levels early and passing with flying colours had been allowed to attend university two years early. People sometimes whispered about him. Apparently he never spoke to anyone. But that was as far as Arthur's knowledge stretched. He speculated that the kid probably just felt a little out of his depth. 

The six of them sat in an uneasy silence. Arthur was surprised there was so few of them. Out of a class of more than one hundred, only six people had arrived. He knew that 9am lectures always dramatically decreased the attendance but this didn't bare thinking about. How many of his classmates had gone insane, like Ewan? How many had reached the same fate as Lancelot.

"Did you hear that?" Morgause broke the silence. Her voice was low, barely more than a whisper. 

Arthur strained his ears, other than the occasional sniff from Gwen the room was silent. He was about to shake his head when he heard it; a faint tapping noise like fingernails on glass.

"Someone's outside," Gwaine said, walking towards the window. He slowly pulled the blind back, poking his head around for a better view.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, pulling his head back. The colour had drained from his face.

"What is it?" Morgana asked. She moved for the blind but Gwaine blocked her.

"It's Lancelot," he said.

"What?" Both Arthur and Gwen cried at the same time.

"We need to let him in!" Gwen carried on.

"No!" Gwaine said quickly.

"Don't be a prick," Arthur said. "If Lance is alive we need to let him in," he strode over to the window, yanking the blind aside. He instantly understood Gwaine's reaction. 

At the window, his fingers pressing against the glass was Lancelot. Only he didn't quite look like Lancelot. The usual soft kindness of his eyes was replaced with a cold, hungry expression. Upon noticing Arthur staring back at him, Lance pushed his face up against the glass, teeth bared in an animal snarl. 

"He's turned into one of them," Gwen muttered, her eyes filled with tears once more.  
Arthur shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't be seeing this. He slammed the blind shut once more. He felt sick. His heart was racing. Looking around the room he thought perhaps everyone was feeling the same.

"So let's get this straight," Gwaine said slowly. He sank down into one of the chairs, massaging his temples. "Something is causing people to go crazy,"

"Seems like it makes them angry," Morgause said.

Gwaine nodded in agreement. "Very bitey,"

There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the room. After a few seconds Gwaine continued. "And from what we've seen so far if you get bitten you get bitey,"

 

Arthur thought it over. The evidence was limited but it was definitely there. 

"We can't be sure though," Morgana said gently. 

"We will just have to be careful. Until we know for sure," Gwaine said. There was a series of nods. 

Arthur looked around, wondering if the others were thinking what he was. Whether they were choosing not to believe or simply had not made the connection yet. He was about to speak when someone beat him to it.

"It's zombies," 

As one, the group turned to look in the direction if the voice. Mordred was still sat at his desk. His notebook, now closed, rested on his lap. His eyes flickered across everyone’s faces but he never maintained eye contact. His expression was difficult to read.

“What?” Morgause spoke, fixing the quiet boy with a penetrating stare.

“Zombies,” Mordred repeated. His voice was surprisingly calm. He nodded in the direction of the window where a soft tapping could still be heard. 

Arthur held his breath waiting for someone to speak. No one did for several minutes.

“He’s right,” Gwen whispered. Her voice was barely audible and Arthur wondered if he’d imagined it until she carried on speaking. “It’s just like in the films; someone gets bitten and then they turn into one of those things,”

As she was speaking she gestured wildly in the direction of the window. Her voice cracked as if she was about to cry again but no tears fell this time. 

“So what do we do?” Morgana asked.

“We hole up here,” Arthur said, surprised at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't meant to talk but the words flowed freely. Arthur glanced around the room. It was large enough to fit a few hundred people. The building was fairly new, but it was constructed from large sturdy stones in an effort to replicate the style of the surrounding older buildings on campus. The windows ran along one wall, covered by long, thick blinds. They would be a hazard if any of them broke but as long as they worked on boarding them fairly quickly; Arthur thought the danger not too great. 

There were two doors, one on either side of the room. The first was the door through which Arthur had arrived. On the other side there was a corridor containing the door leading outside as well as access to several seminar rooms, the library, the canteen and the gym. On the whole, Arthur thought their current location not too bad. Once this room was fortified they may even be able to expand to the rest of the building to find supplies and maybe even other people.

“We reinforce the barrier at the door. Board the windows. When the coast is clear we’ll make a run to the canteen. If this is really a zombie invasion then we might be here a while,”

“It’s the best plan we've got,” Gwaine shrugged.


	2. The Bitten

When he came to the first thing Merlin was aware of was a sharp pain behind his eyes. He stayed still for several moments, refusing to open them, knowing that light was probably not going to do the pain any favours. The second thing he noticed was the scratchy feeling in his throat, accompanied by a foul tasting dry mouth. How long was it since he’d had a drink? Thirdly, he realised he was shivering. His t-shirt was sticking to his body as Merlin lay in a pool of sweat. He raised a hand too his forehead, feeling the cool clamminess of his skin. He could not place where he was. Obviously, he was ill, but he did not feel like he was in the familiar cosiness of his room. He felt like he was on the floor. Had he passed out? Merlin struggled to remember what had happened. 

Eyes still closed, Merlin sat up. He was pleased to find that he could move freely. Gingerly, he ran his hands over his body, taking an inventory of any injuries. Everything seemed fine, apart from a few aches from sleeping on the hard, cold floor. But as his fingers skimmed his neck, Merlin let out a sharp gasp. The area beneath his scarf burned with pain as he touched it. It was damp and sticky. Merlin realised with a sense of dread that his fingers were coated in half-congealed blood. 

The pain and the blood however, seemed to trigger a memory. Flashes of a girl. She had been bleeding. Merlin tried to help. But she had… she’d attacked him. She had bitten his neck. Merlin felt sick as he remembered her lifeless form, glass sticking from her forehead. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. It had been self-defence. She was going to kill him. The look of pure hate in her eyes flashed through Merlin’s mind. 

Finally, Merlin opened his eyes. The room was dark but a small amount of light filtered in from the window above. It looked as if the building was abandoned. Old broken furniture was strewn across the floor. Graffiti decorated the wall, though it was too dark for Merlin to make out any of the words. He didn’t really care anyway. He had no idea how much time had passed. He needed help. Attempting to ignore the pain now radiating through his neck, Merlin shoved his hand in his pocket. Empty. Desperately he tried the other side but his hand just flailed uselessly at nothing but a screwed up receipt and some pocket lint. His phone was missing. 

His chest began to tighten as panic welled up inside of him. His breathing was restricted once again, as if the crazy girl was back on his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs as she clawed at his face. Merlin wheeled around, his mind racing. He knew he’d had it shortly before the attack. Had someone found his unconscious body and raided it for treasure? Maybe he was being held hostage in this large, dark room. His head spun with possibilities and he started to feel faint. He took one great, shuddering breath fearing that he was going to pass out again. He turned back towards the door.

On the floor, something was glinting in the small ray of light that was shining through the window. Merlin approached slowly, fearing that it may be a trap. After the morning he’d had he felt like he couldn’t trust anything to be as it seemed. He squinted at the object, feeling slightly foolish about the almost-panic attack threatening to spill. Among the dust coating the floor sat Merlin’s phone. It must have fallen from his grasp as he fell. 

Who should he call first? His friend Gwen to tell her that he was going to be late for the lecture? Judging by the level of light coming through the window, Merlin had missed his lecture by several hours. Or perhaps his mum to let her know what was happening? He didn’t want to worry her though. Not until he knew if this was anything worth worrying about. He probably should call the emergency services. Get his injuries checked out, report the attack. Figure out what on earth was going on. 

He snatched the phone from the floor and thumbed the unlock button. Nothing happened. He pressed again, a little more vigorously. Again, the screen was blank. Merlin squinted through the darkness, raising the phone closer to his face. It was only then that Merlin noticed the spider-web of cracks running across the phone’s screen and case. It was well and truly broken. 

For Merlin that was the final straw. He sank back to the ground, head in hands. He took deep breaths in an attempt to steady the sobs threatening to erupt as silent tears ran down his cheeks. He really should have stayed in bed he thought bitterly. Merlin allowed himself a moment to collect his thoughts. 

The way he saw it there were several options:

Continue to explore the building in hope of finding a phone or a friendly soul that may offer help. The thought of staying in this unfamiliar room filled Merlin with dread. Plus no one had answered his initial calls so he could reasonably deduce that the building was indeed abandoned. 

He could leave the building and go home. That was the most inviting option by far, but also probably the least practical. Merlin lived in the next town over, at least fifteen miles away. If his wound was infected, he needed it looking at as soon as possible. Plus there was the whole issue of fleeing a crime scene if anyone were to discover the crazy girl’s lifeless form out on the street. If they hadn’t already.

Thirdly, he could leave the building and find help nearby. This was the option that Merlin settled with. He reasoned that his campus was on the next street over. At the very top of the campus was one of the many teaching hospitals. If Merlin made his way there he could at the very least get someone to take a look at his neck. 

It took a few attempts for Merlin to open the door. It was a thick, heavy fire door and Merlin felt incredibly weak. After pushing, punching and kicking, swearing at and finally slamming his body against the door it finally opened. 

Merlin hadn’t noticed how stuffy the room had been until the fresh air (albeit tainted with the scent of piss) reached his nostrils. He shielded his eyes from the sun as they adjusted to the new level of light. Even though the sun hung low in the sky it was a lot brighter outside and Merlin struggled to adapt for a few moments. It was still hot, unnaturally so for an evening in September, but there was now a slight breeze. The air hitting his face helped to shift some of the fog from Merlin’s brain. He started to feel better. He stood for quite a while trying to will his legs to walk. It seemed that they had suddenly turned to lead. The only way out of this alleyway was the way he’d arrived; passed the presumably dead girl, the broken glass and the blood stains. 

Taking a breath, but careful not to inhale too much of the pissy smell, Merlin began moving. He carefully kept his eyes averted from the area of the incident until he was almost atop it. Before he knew it, Merlin had reached the end of the alleyway. He glanced towards the area where he thought he girl was lying only to be greeted by an empty space. For a moment Merlin thought that maybe the attack had been a dream but there were unmistakeable signs of a struggle. Around his feet there were a few scattered shards of broken glass. A few drops of blood splattered across the floor and up one of the walls from the attack. 

The body had been moved. Someone must have stumbled across her. Merlin wasn’t sure how to feel. He was relieved that he did not have to see her motionless body, the glass sticking out of her forehead, the unfocussed eyes and the large wound in her side. She was probably in a hospital somewhere, being nursed back to health. On the other hand, panic danced around in the back of Merlin’s mind. If someone had found the girl, they would be looking for the person that had injured her, regardless of if she was alive or dead. He’d probably get blamed for all of her injuries though he’d only hit her on the head in an attempt to stop her ripping his throat out. This was messed up.

Merlin decided that he should not dwell on the situation. First he needed to get himself sorted out. He still felt shaky and it was difficult to think straight. Then he could explain to someone at the hospital what had happened. They could help him. 

There was something wrong, though Merlin couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was something other than the strange happenings ever since he had got on the train that morning. Sudden illnesses and violent strangers were not unheard of, certainly. Merlin’s head swam. Yet again he took a deep breath, pushing the growing sense of dread away and stepped out onto the street. 

As Merlin’s foot connected with the pavement an ear-piercing scream filled the air. It was then that Merlin realised what had been unnerving him. Everything had been totally silent. There was no traffic. There were no pedestrians. Perhaps the most unnerving was that there were no birds singing or dogs barking or insects buzzing. The scream continued for several long seconds. Merlin debated whether he should investigate or not. The noise was raw; sounding like it was ripping the throat from which it erupted. He looked over his shoulder, nearly screaming himself when he saw the source of the sound.

A few metres away stood a figure. Its head was thrown back as the dreadful howl continued to escape its mouth. As the scream came to a close it lowered its head and stared at Merlin. He barely had time to register that hate-filled eyes and the glass shard jutting from a hole in her forehead before she charged at him. She was fast; faster than any person should be with half of their torso missing and a fairly serious head wound. For a terrifying split-second, Merlin thought he was rooted to the ground. He found his legs moments before she reached him and took a few quick steps backwards. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” he cried out as she came closer still. The words fell on deaf ears as she young woman snarled, baring bloodied teeth. Merlin wondered whether it was his own blood or if she’d been biting someone else. He decided there was only one thing for it. He turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Merlin made it onto campus without bumping into anyone else. He easily outran the girl, losing her when he turned the corner. Once he was out of sight it seemed that she had given up the chase. He took a few moments to regain his breath. He desperately needed a drink; his head was still throbbing and his eyes were sore and dry. 

The teaching hospital was at the top end of campus. The hill was notoriously steep; even the fittest of students found it difficult to climb without breaking a sweat. Taking this into consideration Merlin thought that it would be best to pay a visit to a water fountain before continuing on his journey. He thought there was one just outside the main lecture hall. Steadily he climbed the hill to the main building. His muscles burned with every step. He wished desperately to have a rest but knew that time was precious. Though at least now he knew he had not killed the girl. Even if she was positively psychotic. 

There were two entrances to the main building. Merlin took what students dubbed the 'bottom door'. So named as it was the door towards the bottom of the steep hill. There was no one around. This did not surprise Merlin as it must have been mid-evening by now. There wouldn't be many lectures on at this time and it was too early in the school year for anyone but the most dedicated of students to be visiting the campus library. 

The familiar corridors were eerily quiet; the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a creepy, echoing silence. Merlin's footsteps vibrated loudly in his ears as he traced the route. He did his best to ignore the mounting sense of dread bubbling away in the back of his mind. He had never been in the building this late before. The deserted corridors brought a foreboding sense of loneliness that Merlin could not explain. The thoughts vanished however as Merlin clapped eyes on the water fountain. His dry throat ached with longing. He had never in his life wanted something as much as he wanted a sip of cool water at that moment. He ran his finger across the smooth, metallic button; savouring the moment before he delicately pressed it. A small trickle of water erupted from the tap. Merlin had never seen something so beautiful. The evening sun shone through the window, making the jet twinkle enticingly. He lowered his lips towards the liquid.

"RUN!" A panicked voice erupted somewhere behind Merlin, making him whirl around. Three people threw themselves around the corner at the end of the corridor. The eery peace immediately shattered. Merlin wasn't sure whether he preferred the creepy silence to the terrified shouts. 

The three carried a large rucksack each. The one in the middle, the only boy, also carried a large satchel draped across his body. Each bag looked ready to bust at the seams. The trio struggled to move quickly against the weight of their bags. 

"Keep moving!" The boy yelled, his voice full of bossy authority. None of the trio had noticed Merlin; too preoccupied with whatever they were running from. Taking into account the bugling bags Merlin wondered if they had been stealing the equipments from the study area. Merlin briefly considered stepping in to hinder their get away. He had been involved in far too much drama already today. He didn't know if he could face apprehending thieves on top of everything else. 

As Merlin watched, trying to tear his gaze away from the scene unfolding before him several more figures lurched around the corner. What on earth was going on. The pursuers stumbled after the trio, eyes full of animalistic hate, jaws snapping noisily and arms swiping wildly. Merlin was reminded of the girl from the alleyway. He scanned the environment for a weapon but there was nothing around. As the group got closer, Merlin braced himself to run. His muscles protested painfully as he stood poised, wanting to help, but also wanted to preserve himself. 

A strangled scream. Merlin snapped his attention back to the group. One of the monsters had taken a swipe at one of the girls. Her long blonde hair had tangled in his fingers. Her heavily charcoaled eyes grew wide as it dawned on her that she had been caught. She flailed wildly, clawing at her attackers hand.

"Arthur! Help her!" The dark haired girl screamed. As the words left her mouth, she swung the rucksack from her shoulders, using it to smack the closest of her attackers straight in the face. He crumpled underneath the weight and didn't get back up again.

The boy, Arthur, appeared to have frozen for a couple of seconds. His eyes wide and unblinking. The blonde girl gave one final tug. She was free of the monster's grip. Merlin felt sick as he realised that she had left a large chunk of her hair in the monster's hand. The monster stared at his hand for a second. Merlin thought he saw confusion flicker across it's features, but a second later it was screaming. The same throat-ripping howl that Merlin associated with the girl from the alleyway. The noise seemed to have shocked Arthur back into action. He grabbed the blonde girl by the hand, dragging her away from the gaggle of creatures now within grabbing distance.

"Morgana! Move!" Arthur shot over his shoulder at the dark haired girl. She was still grappling with one of the monsters, her eyes alive with terror. Morgana tore herself away from the battle, landing one final punch between the monster's eyes. There was a sickening crunch as Morgana's fist connected. It recoiled in horror, grasping at its own face.

The three started down the corridor again, Arthur still pulling the blonde haired girl behind him. She was gingerly patting the fresh bald spot on the side of her head. There was a small trickle of blood already forming. 

"Nearly there," Arthur was saying, muttering words of encouragement to his friends. It was at that point that the trio finally noticed Merlin. He froze; a deer caught in the headlights. 

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded, fixing Merlin with a scrutinizing glare.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but his mouth was still to dry to form coherent words. A small grunt left his lips.

"He's one of them," Arthur said, his voice low and hurried. 

"Don't be daft," Morgana said. "If he was one of them he'd be eating our faces right about now,"

Merlin nodded hastily in agreement. He didn't plan on eating anyone's face. Or any other part of their bodies for that matter. Arthur fixed him with a defiant stare.

"You're in our way," he snapped, pointing at the door behind Merlin. 

"Sorry," Merlin managed to croak and he side stepped, allowing Arthur to tap out a pattern on the door. Some sort of secret knock. As Merlin shifted, something caught his eye. The monster that Morgana had taken out with the rucksack was dragging itself at an alarming rate across the floor. The others were not far behind. Merlin opened his mouth to shout a word of warning when the crawling monster shot a hand out. It's fist clamped tightly around the blonde girl's leg, causing her to let out a startled squeak as she fell to the floor. 

"Shit! Morgause!" Morgana shouted, kicking out at the monster's head. Her heel concected with another sickening crunch, but not before the monster had dragged Morgause's ankle to it's mouth and taken a large bite. Morgause screamed in agony, all colour instantly draining from her skin. The monster simply slumped to one side, jaw slack. 

"No. No. Nonono," Morgana had tears running down her face. She was grasping for her friend, trying to hold her in her arms. "What's taking them so long?" She screamed at Arthur just as the door opened.

Arthur shouldered his way in, throwing his bags onto a couple of empty seats. He stalked across to the other side of the room. "Get in!" He hissed at Morgana. 

Morgana and Merlin lifted Morgause by the armpits and began dragging her over the threshold. 

"Leave her outside," Arthur commanded. He wasn't making eye contact with anyone.

"Why?" An unfamiliar voice entered the conversation.

"She's been bitten," Arthur snapped. "We can't chance her changing,"

"We can't just leave her out there to be eaten!" Morgana wailed.

Merlin tried to keep track of the conversation. He was all too aware of the burning pain underneath his scarf. All too aware of the rapidly gaining monsters. 

"We haven't got time," Merlin said, finally finding his voice. It hurt to talk but he carried on. "There's more outside,"

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but was instantly cut off as someone flung themselves at Merlin.

"Ohmygod. Merlin, thank goodness you're alright,"

Merlin looked down at the figure hugging him tightly. He recognised the dark curls of his friend Gwen nestled against his chest. When she beamed up at him, he could see the tear tracks running down her cheeks and the sore redness of her eyes. 

In a matter of seconds Merlin had been pulled inside. Morgana and Morgause had made their way over the threshold and Morgause was now slumped against the wall as Morgana held her closely. The two other boys in the room slammed the door closed and hastily pushed a pile of furniture up against it. Merlin looked at it, eyebrow raised. It would hold for now but not for too long.

"She can't stay here," Arthur said quietly once the commotion had calmed.

A series of worried looks was passing between the occupants of the room. Merlin watched silently, unspoken conversations flying around him in a flurry of frowns and quirked eyebrows. Gwen shook her head ever so slightly at Arthur who responded by running his hand through his hair.

"Is someone going to explain what's going on?" Merlin asked finally. Morgause was paling rapidly on the floor, her breathing shallow. As one the group looked towards her. Morgause was too far out of it to notice the attention. 

"If we don't do something, she's going to turn into one of them," Arthur said, gesturing towards the door.

"What?" Merlin asked. "That's ridiculous,"

"He's right," Gwen said quietly. "If someone gets bitten they become one of those monsters,"

Merlin's stomach tightened. His fingers nearly flew to the burning wound on his neck but he stopped them just in time. 

"We don't know that!" Morgana shouted from the corner. Her hands were covered in thick red blood where she'd tried to stem the flow steadily seeping from Morgause's ankle.

"We've seen it happen!" Arthur snapped. "With the girl with the..." He cut off, pointing at his stomach. Merlin didn't understand but the rest of the group were nodding, repulsion evident on their faces. 

"We didn't see her get bitten!" Morgana said back.

"Gwaine did!" Arthur bit back. "And we all saw what happened to Lance,"   
He said the last bit quietly, staring down at the carpet. 

"What happened to Lance?" Merlin cut in. He saw Gwen stiffen beside him and immediately regretted asking. Now was not a good time.

"He got bit," the boy Merlin presumed was Gwaine spoke up. "He got bit. He stopped moving. We all thought he was dead. They'd taken a few nasty chunks out of him. Then a while later he got back up. Only he wasn't Lance anymore. He was one of those biters," 

Merlin's stomach squirmed. He wondered whether he should speak up. Say he'd been bitten and that he was perfectly fine. Apart from the pounding in his head and the soreness of his throat. But what if he wasn't fine? What if the headache and constant thirst were symptoms leading up to the change?  
He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it again upon noticing the hard look in Arthur's eyes. This was a person that was not going to listen to reason. Not when emotions were running high.

"That's only two people," Morgana said. "We don't know that it happens to everyone. Maybe it's only if you get infected, or only if you die from your injury or..." She trailed off, silent tears running down her cheeks. 

"I'm not trusting anyone that's been bitten," Arthur announced, deliberately looking away from Morgause. His arms were crossed protectively across his chest. 

"I hate to say it, but I agree with Arthur," Gwen said quietly. Her face was haunted and Merlin knew she was thinking of Lance. He could not imagine Lance as a hate fueled monster. He was always so kind, so caring. 

"I refuse to throw my friend back out there," Morgana said. 

Merlin glanced around the group, taking in the different expressions. Arthur's brow was furrowed as if he was concentrating. Suddenly the blond boy's face lit up; his blue eyes sparkling and lips curling into a smile.

"What if we chop it off?" He asked the group.

"What?!"

"We chop her foot off," Arthur announced. "Before the infection gets to her brain. They do it all the time in zombie films,"

"We're not in a zombie film," Morgana countered "you can't just chop people's limbs off on a hunch,"

"It'll only lead to infection," the other boy spoke. Merlin noticed that throughout the discussion he had held back, though his pale eyes had been watching, constantly taking everything in. "Or make her bleed out. Either way her chances aren't good," 

"Well, we need to do something!" Panic was well and truely setting in now. Arthur began to pace, rubbing his temples. 

"Put her in the store cupboard," Gwaine suggested, his mouth a grim smile.

"Yes!" Arthur said, the excited gleam back in his eye. "That way she won't get eaten by the walking dead out there but if she does turn we'll have a good few minutes to react," 

Merlin watched the rest of the group, unsure how he felt about the plan. He was unsure how he felt about anything. He was painfully aware of the burning sensation underneath his scarf. Arthur shot a hopeful look to Morgana. Her lips were pursed and there were two faint tracks down her cheeks where her mascara had smudged. Slowly she nodded her head. 

"Help me move her," Arthur pointed at Merlin. He swallowed and nodded wordlessly. Morgause was now completely unconscious. Her pulse was weak but fast underneath Merlin's fingers as he hoisted her up. The gash on her leg had almost stopped bleeding, congealing unpleasently in a putrid black glob. Merlin winced, hoping that his own neck was not in a similar state. He made a note to clean it at the next opportunity. Despite her small frame Morgause was heavy. It took several grunts and groans from both Arthur and Merlin as they dragged her into the nearby cupboard. They hastily propped her up, ensuring that if Morgause did regain consciousness that she would be as comfortable as possible. The door was then closed and a chair wedged firmly under the handle. Just in case. 

"Is anyone going to explain what is going on?" Merlin asked again. 

"Mordred reckons it's zombies," Gwaine said. "Seems to be the only reasonable explanation. Everyone's gone insane and started eating each other," 

"What happened to you Merlin?"Gwen interrupted before Merlin could consider Gwaine's words. "You look like you've been through hell,"

"I think I have," Merlin said humourlessly. He realised at that moment that he must look as rough as he felt. A quick glance at his hands showed them to be caked in dirt. The rest of him probably wasn't much better. He quickly explained his encounter with the girl that morning, carefully censoring the part where she took a mouthful out of his neck. He said he'd hidden in an abandoned building until the coast was clear before making his way here in search of water. 

"What were you doing?" he asked. 

"We've been holed up here all morning," Gwen explained. She had sat next to Merlin, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

"We realised that between us there was no food and very little water. Not knowing how long we'd be trapped in here Arthur proposed a food run. We were on our way back when you ran into us," Morgana explained. Her voice was void of emotion but it seemed to be taking a great amount of effort to speak. The quiet boy, Mordred, patted her shoulder sympathetically. 

Merlin cast an eye towards the bulging bags that Arthur, Morgana and Morgause had been carrying. They must be full of supplies from the canteen. He idly wondered just how much there was and how long it would last.


	3. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally after an extremely long wait I present chapter 3. I hope everyone enjoys it. If you notice any errors, as always, don't hesitate to let me know. I have done my best to proof read several times though as I do most of my writing on my phone it isn't the easiest of tasks. I'm looking forward to any constructive criticism anyone has to offer so please leave a comment if you wish.

He hadn't slept. He lay on his side, his knees tucked up to his chest and his head bowed causing his fringe to tickle his kneecaps as he breathed in and out. His face was sore from the silent tears hours before. He willed sleep to consume him, secretly hoping that once it did he may never open his eyes again. Never experience those creatures ever again. To never again experience the loss and pain caused by them. 

It had only been twenty-four hours. Twenty-four measly hours since he'd been sat on the train and everything had been normal. There was still a chance that it would all blow over; a minor virus that died out after a day or two. Maybe even the armed forces would charge in and save the day. Somehow Merlin doubted it. 

He hadn't known Morgause. Despite that, as he listened to the quiet sniffs coming from Morgana's corner he could feel the pain she was experiencing. No one had been brave enough to check the store cupboard since Morgause's unconscious form had been locked inside, terrified of what they may find. Somehow, not knowing her fate was worse than if she had simply dropped dead before them. 

Merlin had, however, known Lancelot. He struggled to think of someone more kind or loyal than Lance. It was the most ironic of tragedies that he had been transformed into a perpetually angry and violent monster. Though Lance's body remained, Merlin doubted that there was a shred of his soul left. He was relieved that he hadn’t had to witness Lance’s eyes full of animalistic hate, his teeth bared in a terrible snarl though the images that swirled through his mind were probably more horrendous and tormenting than anything he could witness in reality.

Merlin wondered whether he was doomed to the same fate. The sting in his neck had quietened down significantly though it still hurt to turn his head too far and the skin felt uncomfortably tight. He didn't want to think what would happen if he did turn. Even if he didn't, he didn't want to think about what would happen if the group found out he had been bitten. He imagined the deep disappointment in Gwen’s eyes and knew instantly that he wouldn’t be able to deal with it. He imagined the reactions of the rest of the group. The anger, fear and betrayal they might feel. It was best if they never found out. 

 

Merlin chanced opening his eyes a fraction. A bleak grey light filtered around the edge of the blinds. Eerie, long shadows filled the lecture theatre. It was still hot, though not as unbareable as the previous day. That was about the only positive thought Merlin had. The air hung low and heavy, pressing on Merlin's chest. He deliberately took slow, deep breaths in an attempt to overcome the sticky thickness of the air. It was no use.

The rest of the group had scattered themselves across the room. No one made eye contact, let alone spoke to one another. Apart from the occasional sniffle the group had sat in silence since Morgause had been stored in the cupboard. Everyone was lost in their thoughts, mulling over the previous twenty four hours and probably wishing they could wake up from this nightmare. Merlin would not be surprised if we wasn't the only one that had been pretending to sleep.

Morgana had tucked herself in the corner nearest the store cupboard. Her back faced the middle of the room, pose mirroring Merlin's own. She had kicked off her high heels, one of which was still bloody from her earlier tussle. Merlin longed to approach her, to tell her everything was fine. But that involved revealing his current status of 'bitten'. He didn't want to be locked up like Morgause, or cast out of the group after only just finding them. As emotions ran high, there was no telling what people might do. Every so often, Morgana's shoulders would heave, accompanied by a quiet sniff. Merlin knew that she was quietly crying to herself. Everyone else probably did too. 

Gwaine had taken himself to the back of the room. In his hand he held a heavy rolling pin. It had been brought back from the kitchens as a makeshift weapon, alongside several sharp knives and a frying pan. He gripped the handle hard, knuckles white from pressure. Gwaine had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, keeping the long fringe away from his eyes. Flashes of the monster tangling its fingers in Morgause's hair crossed Merlin's mind. He felt sick. There was a hard look in Gwaine's eyes, almost as if he was daring the hordes of walkers to crash through the windows so he could smash their heads in with his rolling pin.

Merlin didn't have a weapon. He hadn't been offered one as they'd been distributed by Arthur. Arthur had easily fallen into the role as leader, that much was obvious. It was also obvious that he disliked Merlin, untrusting of new comers even at this early stage. Possibly even blaming Merlin for Morgause being bitten. It was he after all that had held them up, wasted precious seconds with his mere exsistance outside the lecture hall. Of their own accord, Merlin's eyes sought out the blond boy. He was surprised to find bloodshot eyes staring back at him, slightly narrowed as they studied his face. Seconds dragged by before Arthur turned his head away, directing his attention to the knife clutched in his hand. Arthur looked pale, Merlin noticed. His hair stuck up rebelliously. Merlin had the urge to walk over and smooth it down but repressed the feeling. He didn't want any more conflicts. 

A heavy sigh interrupted Merlin's thoughts. Mordred was sat at one of the desks, the tiny table pulled over his lap. He was staring hard at a page full of miniscule handwriting, brow knitted in concentration. Like Arthur, Mordred's pale eyes were also bloodshot. His dark eyeliner had smudged, somehow making him look even more of a sorry state than the rest of them. He was tugging at his dark curls in frustration. Merlin wondered what he was writing; now was definitely not the time to work on assignments. Another heavy sigh told Merlin that now was not a good time to ask. 

The only other noise in the hall came from the professor’s desk at the front of the room. A soft tapping and the rustle of fabric as Gwen organised their supplies, rationing the food between them. At first, Merlin had thought that less than twenty-four hours into the apparent apocalypse was a little early to go scavenging for food and weapons. But they had all seen their fair share of zombie movies and it had been agreed that they were better off if they were well prepared. Gwen bit her lip thoughtfully as she arranged the tins into a pyramid, counting as she went along. There was also a large pile of perishables. Better to eat them first, before they were no longer fit for consumption. 

The sigh from Gwen was barely audible, but Merlin caught it as she fought with a rebel curl falling into her eyes. She pushed it back, tucking it behind her ear, but still it fell forward. She had found a notebook and pen and was carefully categorising their pile of supplies. Merlin shouldn’t have been surprised. Stress presented itself differently for everyone. Too many times, Merlin had seen Gwen transform into a formidable organising machine; constantly cleaning and planning. The period leading up to their A-levels had seen Gwen drawing out revision timetables not only for herself, but for a majority of their friends too. She’d even resorted to cleaning the common room on more than one occasion. But, scary as it may have been, it had worked. It was Gwen’s coping mechanism and she had sunk back into the familiar routine of categorising everything in sight. 

Merlin didn’t know how she did it. How she managed to march on through some of the most stressful situations. Gwen would stare her stressors in the face and proclaim “you are a problem, but I will overcome you and here’s how I’m going to do it”. Merlin on the other hand seemed to shut down at the first sign of anything even mildly stressful. He had realised that now, more than ever, as he replayed the previous day through in his head. He hadn’t been able to help the man on the train, or to react to his attacker on the street instead finding himself glued to the spot, his legs suddenly lead. He tried not to dwell on it so much. If he worried himself he would only become a hundred times worse.

A sudden loud rumble echoed through the room. The clicking of tins stopped along with Morgana’s quiet sniffling as the whole room stopped breathing as one. Panicked glances were exchanged though no one spoke. Seconds dragged by in silence, the occupants of the room poised, ready to defend against whatever horrors were making such a noise. A bright flash illuminated the edges of the blinds, followed less than a second later by another, louder rumble.

“It’s only thunder,” Gwen muttered, though her eyes were still wide with fear. Merlin noticed that she had grabbed a tin, ready to use as a weapon should she need it. She placed it back down with a gentle click. 

Merlin felt himself release the lungful of air he had been holding. A few nervous giggles sounded around the room. Everyone feeling embarrassed at being so terrified of a little thunder and lightning. Though the occupants were still obviously on edge; bodies rigid and clutching their make-shift weapons close, the atmosphere seemed to lift somewhat. Merlin sat up properly, propping himself against the wall.

“How much have we got?” Arthur’s voice cut through the silence, somewhat croaky from lack of use. The question was aimed at Gwen. She rattled off a number of provisions, the figures swirling and getting lost in the fog that was Merlin’s mind. He tried to concentrate on her answer but as he tried to grasp at the words, they danced just out of his reach. Merlin clenched his teeth, hoping desperately that no one would notice his discomfort. The room spun around him, he felt sick to his stomach. He let himself slide back down the wall, closing his eyes and wishing once more for sleep to consume him. Somewhere, far away, he could hear a muted conversation; Gwen and Arthur he thought but the words still escaped him. 

Even with his eyes closed, Merlin could still feel the room tilting. If he wasn’t careful, he was sure that he might roll away. He reached out, placing his fingertips on the cool wall. Though there was nothing to grip, the solid surface was a comfort. It was an anchor holding him still. Merlin winced, wondering if this was a side effect of his bite. As the thought entered his mind, his eyes flew open. Ignoring the wave of nausea that rolled through him, Merlin sat upright once more. Was this what it was like to change? He looked at the people around him. He couldn’t put their lives in danger.

“I need to get out,” he announced, standing on shaking legs.

“You can’t go out there, you’ll get eaten alive,” Gwaine said from his perch at the back of the room.

“Not to mention, you’ll get us eaten too,” Arthur said. “No one leaves until we’ve cleared the area,”

Merlin shook his head wildly. He couldn’t tell them his reasoning but he knew that he needed to get out. 

“I need some air,” he gasped, fighting the urge to vomit. He could feel several pairs of eyes fixed on him. 

“We’d all like a little fresh air, but it’s not like we can just open a window,” Arthur snapped. 

Merlin ignored the protests and walked deliberately towards the barrier. 

“Don’t you dare compromise our defences,” Arthur was saying. “You’re going to get us all killed,”

Merlin’s fingers grasped the edge of the first bookcase blocking the exit. He would hardly call it their ‘defences’. If something really wanted to get in here it would. He heaved, though the bookcase did not budge. His body protested every move.

“Merlin, you need to sleep,” Gwen was next to him, her hands resting on his shoulder. Her hand was uncomfortably close to his wound. Just a few more inches and she would discover it. Merlin flinched away from her but she barely seemed to notice. 

Another roll of thunder echoed through the room, drowning out Merlin’s attempts to protest. As the growl died down, it was replaced by a series of quieter bangs.

“What the fuck is that?” Gwaine stood up, rolling pin held tightly.

The banging grew louder and more persistent as the group looked around, trying to figure out the source. As one, their eyes settled on the store cupboard.

There was a series of scrambling as everyone moved at once. Morgana stumbled to her feet, backing away slowly. As she moved, her eyes never left the door. Arthur, however, stepped forward, closely followed by both Gwen and Gwaine. Arthur’s knife was clutched tightly in his hand, ready to defend. Mordred, much like Merlin, seemed to have frozen on the spot. 

Now was the time to break down the barrier. To escape if he was about to turn. Though what would it matter if Morgause had become a flesh-eating monster. The moment she stepped out of the store cupboard, they would all be trapped. They were all as good as dead. If Merlin did dismantle the barrier, it may give the others a clear escape. They could run out of the room and to save themselves from monster Morgause. But Merlin’s arms refused to work. His limbs had once more turned to lead and he was once more rendered completely useless. 

It seemed to happen in slow motion. With his free hand, Arthur removed the chair from beneath the handle of the store cupboard. The pounding on the door continued. It grew louder and heavier, though there was more time between each thud. Merlin imagined the undead Morgause throwing her body at the solid wooden door. 

Arthur turned to face the group, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Stay back,” he whispered, “just in case,” Merlin wondered if he was the only one that noticed the hint of uncertainty run across Arthur’s features. Gwen and Gwaine hung back slightly both poised and ready should Arthur need back up. Morgana had shuffled over to Mordred, her fingers clutching at the sleeve of his t-shirt for support. Her eyes were fixated on the door, wincing each time the door shook and the sound echoed around the room. 

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The wood was thick and solid. Merlin wondered how long it would take before it gave way. Arthur was breathing heavily, his hand grazing the door handle. Part of Merlin wanted to tell him to get it over with. Another wanted to tell Arthur not to be such a stupid prat. There was a sudden lull in the banging. Arthur shot a nervous glance over his shoulder. What on earth was she doing in there? 

“Now or never,” Arthur whispered.  
He yanked the door open abruptly. Morgause tumbled through the door mid-leap, landing in Arthur’s out stretched arms. It was at that moment that Merlin found his legs again, leaping forward to drag the monster away from Arthur before any damage was done. All thoughts of Merlin’s impending change were forgotten as he dragged Morgause backwards several paces, away from the other occupants in the room. It didn’t matter if he got bitten again, at least he could save everyone else in the process. 

After several seconds of struggling Morgause seemed to lose her energy, collapsing to the floor at Merlin’s feet. She looked up at him, a defeated look in her dark eyes. Merlin’s stomach dropped. The animalistic hate he had come to associate with the monsters was absent from Morgause’s expression. Instead he was met with large, questioning eyes. She gritted her teeth in a pained expression.

“Morgana?” the word was barely audible, but Merlin knew that he hadn’t imagined it.

“She’s alive!” he called to the others over his shoulder. They had gathered near the barrier, ready to make an escape if necessary. 

“Morgause!” Morgana called out, her voice shaking. She pushed past Arthur who was stood at the head of the group and flung herself to the girl on the ground. As Morgana pulled her friend into a sitting position, Morgause's head flopped back, her eyelids fluttering lazily. There were deep, dark circles around her eyes; purple like bruises. Her skin was paler than Merlin remembered it being just a few hours before. Even as he watched, the colour seemed to be draining from her face. 

His attention was caught by Arthur, now next to Merlin, running both of his hands through his hair, ruffling it even further than before. Arthur's face was almost as pale as Morgause, his eyes wide and staring at the girl on the floor. 

As Merlin watched he suddenly became aware of a wet stinkyness on his hands. His fingertips were coated with a thick, deep red liquid. For a second, Merlin was lost. That's when he saw it. There was something sticking out of Morgause's abdomen. A thick trickle of blood formed around the foreign object. 

Morgana stroked her friend's face, murmering words the others could not hear. She reached for the object impaling Morgause, her fingers lightly trailing over the handle. Morgause coughed, wincing with pain as she did. A dark red bubble formed at the corner of her lips, bursting and splattering Morgana with specks of blood. 

"I don't know what to do!" Morgana spoke to the group frantically. Merlin wasn't sure. He had heard somewhere that it was best to leave the object in to stop any further bloodflow but he wasn't sure if that was even correct. 

"Shit," Arthur's voice was quiet and weak; nothing like what Merlin had become accustomed to over the past few hours. 

Morgause's lips moved though there was no sound. Another thin trickle of blood leaked from her open mouth. Morgana bent back down, muttering again.

"Don't do this to me Morgause. You can't do this,"

"Maybe we can get her to the hospital?" Gwen's voice interrupted Morgana's frantic whispering.

"It's a long way," Gwaine said. "But with all of us, I think we can,"

"It's a suicide mission," Arthur said, though he didn't look convinced.

"If we don't try Morgause will die," Gwaine said.

Arthur's gaze fell to the floor, a quiet "I know," fell from his lips.

It was only then that Merlin's brain caught up with what was happening. At some point during the struggle, Arthur's knife had become imbedded in Morgause. 

"There's less than before," Mordred's quiet voice came from the back of the room. Merlin hadn't even heard him move. The blinds twitched at the window as he let them fall back into place. Gwaine strode over to take a peak.

"He's right, there's a couple walkers sniffing around but most have moved on," he said. 

"We need to decide quickly," Gwen said softly. The unspoken meaning behind her words did not escape Merlin. If they didn't act fast there would be no hope. Even if there were no doctors and nurses left there would still be medical supplies. They could figure out what to do. 

**

 

Merlin's fringe was plastered to his forehead. An unpleasant combination of warm rain water, mingling with his own sweat trickling down the side of his face and the tip of his nose. The rest of the group were in no better shape. A herd of drowned rats scurrying their way up the steep hill. Gwaine, Merlin and Mordred each weighed down by a large rucksack each; hastily and haphazardly repacked in their panicked state. Gwen and Morgana shared between them the various satchels and backpacks belonging to the members of the group. Arthur, the only member with no bags, carried Morgause over his shoulder, her head lolling uselessly against his back. He was careful to avoid her injury though a patch of crimson was spreading steadily across the front of his T-shirt. If Merlin watched carefully, he could just about make out the steady rise and fall of Morgause's chest. 

The weapons had been redistributed in preparation for the journey. Merlin gripped the handle of his frying pan, reassured by the weight. He wasn't sure that it would be much help but it was better than nothing. 

"Does anyone else find the lack of living impaired people disconcerting?" Gwaine asked after a few minutes with no close encounters. 

"I'm trying not to think about it," Arthur grunted, readjusting Morgause's position over his shoulder. 

"The rain's driven them off, I think," Mordred said. 

Merlin nodded. Only fools would be out in this weather. He supposed that made them stupider than a bunch of brain-dead monsters. In a way, the lack of zombies made it worse. The rising tensions each time they approached a potential hiding place only for nothing to jump out. 

If it wasn't for the constant reminders (blood splatters, ripped clothing and even a disembodied hand), Merlin might have thought it had all been a very bad, very vivid dream. 

The drumming of the rain on the pavement was the only noise apart from the ragged breathing coming from the seven as they dragged themselves up the hill. It was steep at the best of times, only made worse by their bulging bags. An uneasy feeling had settled in the pit of Merlin's stomach. His earlier brain fog and dizziness were long forgotten; the constant worry about his bite no longer eating away at the back of his mind. For now there was only two thoughts. The first was to get to the hospital, to somewhere safe. The second was that they had better not get eaten in the process. 

In all, it took perhaps fifteen minutes to reach the top of the hill, though it seemed more like fifteen hours. Only once did they see any potential threat; a lone young man crouched on the ground a few feet away. His back was towards them and he didn't notice as they tiptoed quietly behind him. He hadn't moved, seemingly in hearing of the movements behind him. They quickly and quietly celebrated, allowing themselves a grim smile before moving on. 

At the top end of campus, a large road separated the university buildings from the hospital. The usually busy street lay silent and unmoving. Typically, a steady stream of cars would pass through, though now only a handful of cars were present and none of them were moving. A couple looked like they had been abandoned, parked at strange angles in the middle of the road. One car straddled the white lines running down the centre of the road, the drivers door wide open. There were no people about, not even any monsters or dead bodies littering the floor. The whole scene made Merlin feel nervous, a little voice in the back oh his head screamed at him to run. 

"We need to move," Morgana's voice cut through the silence. Her tears had stopped, replaced by a hard, determined expression. Though the day was warm, she hugged herself and shivered, drenched to the skin. Morgana's high heels had been discarded at the lecture theatre; they would only slow her down. Instead, she walked barefoot, her bright green painted toe nails contrasting against her pale skin. 

A quick glance at Morgause told Merlin that Morgana was right. Her chest was moving quickly as she took in short, shallow breaths. Her skin was white like chalk, the only patch of colour was the bursts of red blossoming around her abdomen and her pale, cracked lips. 

Merlin almost turned to walk towards the crossing before realising that there was no need. If anyone was on the roads today it was unlikely that they would be paying attention to traffic lights. They crossed the road quietly, weaving in between the handful of abandoned cars. The rain, though still heavy, was starting to die down a little, the deafening downpour becoming a little more bareable. 

Safely on the other side of the road all that separated the group from the hospital was a line of tall trees. They were met by a rainbow of leaves as the greens of summer gave way for the oranges and reds of autumn. The leaves rustled in the breeze, now audible over the sounds of the rain drumming against the concrete. Behind the row of trees was a low wall. Normally they would have easily been able to hop over but the extra weight of the supplies and of course, Morgause made things a little bit more difficult. 

They followed the wall around to the main entrance. The wind whipped up around them sending a scattering of leaves falling from the branches. The trees creaked slightly and the wind seemed to howl sending a shiver up Merlin's spine. At the head of the group Gwaine stopped dead. 

"Shit,"

Merlin followed Gwaine's gaze. Another howl reached his ears. Merlin's stomach dropped as he realised it was most definitely not the wind.


	4. The Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody. I feel I should apologise for how long you've had to wait for this chapter. I've had a lot of technical difficulties resulting in me having to rewrite a few times. That will teach me to be extra careful when I save and back up.
> 
> Anyway, after a super long wait here is chapter four. I hope you all enjoy.

Groans filled the air, punctuated by the occasional throat ripping scream and the loud, wet slams of flesh against glass or concrete. Merlin's stomach dropped as he realised the hospital was a far cry from the safe haven they had dared to dream of. 

The main entrance was surrounded by dozens of zombies all clamouring to get to the doors and windows, screaming battle cries and throwing themselves against the glass. There was no way they were getting inside undetected.

Merlin glanced at the others, all silent, wide-eyed and rigid. No one dare speak, nor move for fear of alerting the pack of blood thirsty monsters mere metres away. His mind raced. Morgause was fading fast but there was still hope, if only they could get inside. Merlin didn't entertain the only other option; to leave the hospital and thus sealing the fate of one of their number. 

"What now?" he whispered. 

There was no response. Arthur shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the position of Morgause in his arms. 

Merlin looked back at the mob of monsters, weighing up his chances. He would be outnumbered greatly, but that didn't matter. Not if it gave the others a fighting chance. It didn't matter if they caught up with him; he was already bitten. He was already doomed. Another thought nagged at the back of Merlin's mind. What if there was a reason he hadn't changed yet? Perhaps he was immune. Either way, it made sense for he to be the one to sacrifice himself.

"I'll distract them," Merlin said "Once the way is clear get Morgause inside,"

"No," Arthur said. Despite his grip on Morgause, Arthur damaged to wrap his hand firmly around Merlin's wrist. "If the zombies are trying to get in that means there's someone inside,"

Merlin stared at his wrist where Arthur's fingers lingered, trying to understand what it would mean for them if there were other survivors inside. He didn't dwell on the thought too long.

"Even more reason to distract them,"

Wrenching his hand from Arthur's grasp, Merlin stepped forward deliberately. He was going to distract the monsters, no matter what Arthur said. It didn't matter. It didn't matter because Merlin was already bitten and was probably about to turn any second now. The least he could do was save a few lives in the process.

"Merlin, don't you dare," Gwen whispered, "you'll get yourself killed,"

Merlin mustered up his best fake smile, "don't be daft. I'll be back in a few minutes,"

He took off running, dropping his bag of supplies as he did. He didn't quite catch Gwen muttering "if he dies I'll kill him."

He jogged towards the mass of writhing bodies, no longer able to hear their screams and groans over the sound of his own pulse echoing in his ears. Unable to hear the protests of his friends over his heart beating fiercely against his ribcage. Unable to feel anything but the lead weight that had settled somewhere in his stomach. He halted abruptly a few feet away, his heart in his throat. 

Seconds dragged as he stood behind the wall of undead, slamming their heads and their fists against the glass. He had chance to run back. To run and hide behind Arthur and Gwaine. To let the muscle deal with this threat. Merlin raised his fist, clutching his frying pan and suddenly doubting its effectiveness. Before he had any more chance to chicken out he opened his mouth:

"Oi! Deadheads!" Merlin cringed as the words bypassed his brain and tumbled from his lips. 

For a fraction of a second nothing happened. The horde grew alarmingly quiet, listening for the source of the sound. And then the zombie nearest Merlin turned, nudging its neighbours with its shoulders. It was like a ripple. One by one the monsters turned to face Merlin, their hungry eyes raking him up and down, their mouths hanging open like dogs salivating. The one that had turned first found Merlin's eyes and fixed him with an animal stare. Then it opened its jaw wide and let out a noise that Merlin could only describe as a squeal of delight before lurching forward. 

"Shit," Merlin muttered to himself as the crowd surged forward. 

He bolted. He went as fast as his legs would carry him. Faster than he had ran ever before. He arrived at the corner of the building, chancing a quick look behind him. The horde were chasing, shuffling after him with alarming speed. Some were limping, dragging injured limbs behind them and tripping up over each other in their eagerness to reach Merlin. 

Behind the mass of monsters Merlin caught a quick glimpse of the others sneaking towards the doors. A brief beam of hope flashed through Merlin's body. His friends were inside, away from the murderous creatures, surrounded by medical equipment and hopefully medical professionals. The burst of hope left him feeling lighter allowing for a sudden burst of speed as he lost sight of the rest of his group. 

He stuck to the parameter of the building, hoping that he would be able to duck around a corner and lose the horde that was steadily gaining on him. Merlin knew that he was likely far more intelligent than the monsters, he was probably faster too, but he also knew that he would not be able to run for long. He had never been into sports or fitness and he mentally kicked himself as his breath started coming in short bursts. 

He didn't know how long he had been running, though he was pleasantly surprised at his stamina in situations like this. His legs were beginning to ache and Merlin wondered how much longer he would be able to outrun the bloodthirsty mob. He chanced a glance over his shoulder. The horde were still following, moaning and reaching out towards him, making grabbing motions with their hands. Team work was obviously not a strong point as they jostled each other, trampling those that fell in the tangle of limbs. Even those that fell wasted no time in picking themselves back up, or in one case dragging itself across the ground on its hands and knees.

Merlin's lungs were burning, his head pounding dully in time to the sound of his feet slamming against the ground. He was done, if he didn't find a hiding place soon he would be captured. They would rip him limb from limb, sinking their teeth deep into his flesh. If he hadn't been already, he was as good as dead now. Underneath Merlin's scarf, his bite wound began to itch. His mum's voice entered his mind, telling him as she had a million times before that itching was good. It meant it was healing. Was that the case now, or was this what happened as the infection set in? Merlin wasn't sure he wanted to know. If he was seconds away from death he did not want to know the likelihood of his survival prior to this insane decision.

He took a few more steps, legs buckling from the effort. Shakily, he slowed to a stop. This was it. He couldn't carry on anymore. He took a deep breath. The cold, clammy hands of death were still a few seconds away. Slowly, Merlin turned to face his inevitable doom. If he was going down, he was going down fighting. He licked his lips, sore and chapped from dehydration, tightening his grip one last time on his frying pan. He didn't how how effective it would be, but it was worth a try. Anything to take down some of these vile creatures during his final stand. 

They were nearly upon him, their groans getting louder, more excitable. The closest of the monsters was nearly within arms reach. Merlin closed his eyes, praying to a God he had never believed in. He swung.

A loud, metallic gong rang through the air, vibrations running up Merlin's arms from the impact. He stepped back, opening his eyes. His target had crumpled under Merlin's blow; its skull cracked like an egg, leaking onto the floor. He wished he hadn't looked. The sight was sickening but Merlin felt himself heave as he focussed on the features of the unundead lying on the ground. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, wide and staring at nothing. A vague sense of recognition washed over Merlin, his mind flashing back to the previous morning on the train.

There was no time to linger, however as the mob stepped over their now lifeless friend, intent only on Merlin, clawing in his general direction. He backed away, swinging his pan wildly. He connected a few more times, but was nowhere near as lucky, only pushing his targets back a few inches. There was a bang somewhere to Merlin's side as his back finally connected with the rough wall behind him. There was no where to go. He raised his weapon once more with determination; one last grand finale before he was torn to shreds.

But as Merlin raised his weapon he noticed the monsters towards the back of the group peeling away, shuffling as fast as their legs would carry them towards a new target. A small group of people stood off to the side, a variety of weapons raised in the air. Merlin's heart jumped as one of the newcomers detached himself from the group, heading straight towards Merlin. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead, dark with moisture, his expression determined and fierce. Arthur was racing towards Merlin, slicing at anything in his path, zombies falling left and right. 

The rest of the group followed suit. Merlin recognised Gwaine and Mordred but there was one man he did not recognise. A mountain of a man, easily several inches taller than Merlin. The muscles in his arms bulged as he swung at his enemies, easily overcoming them one by one. Merlin thanked his lucky stars that this man was apparently on his side. 

Then Arthur was at Merlin's side, dragging him away from the remaining monsters. They fought back to back, wordlessly. Merlin trying very hard to focus on the task at hand and not the way that Arthur's back was pressed firmly against his, ignoring the way Arthur's muscles rippled as he took another swing towards the oncoming undead. Once the immediate vicinity was clear, Arthur grabbed Merlin's arm, shoving him forcefully towards a fire exit propped open a few meters away. 

"Wrap it up guys," Arthur hissed towards the other three. Merlin stopped in the doorway, watching the others fight. 

The stranger, looking surprisingly menacing for a man wearing a set of pale pink scrubs let out a roar, caving in yet another zombie's head. Blood spattered onto his bare arms and his clothes. Having heard the noise another monster detached itself from battle with Gwaine and shuffled over to the giant. Its talon-like fingers snagged on the short sleeve of the stranger's top, the nail getting tangled in a loose piece of thread. There was a ripping noise as the stranger yanked the monster away from him and his sleeve came away in its hand. The man wasted no time in finishing off his attacker before looking around. Merlin realised he was gawping.

"Come on," Arthur instructed again, slicing at a zombie that was giving Mordred trouble. "Before the noise attracts any more,"

The remaining fighters backed quickly towards the door, slashing at any zombie that lurched into their path. Merlin felt himself being manhandled and shoved inside before the door was slammed shut in the face of the handful of remaining undead. A series of bangs echoed against the heavy door.

"They'll leave soon," Arthur said. "No windows,"

"Hopefully," Gwaine added. "Let's get back to the others,"

They started walking, Merlin fell in at the back of the group. Before long, Arthur was by his side watching Merlin intently.

"What?"

Arthur spoke from the corner of his mouth, his voice too low for the others to hear from a few steps ahead. "Were you bitten?"

Merlin's breath hitched in his throat. How could Arthur know? It took a second for Merlin to realise that he had meant during the recent battle. He shook his head "I'm fine,"

"Good,"

 

"Why did you come back for me?" Merlin asked after several moments of silence.

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know. You're an idiot. But I couldn't let you die. Not like that,"

Merlin knew he'd been an idiot, particularly when no one else knew his reasoning but the insult still stung. Merlin looked at his feet as they walked before muttering "It worked didn't it,"

"That's not the point," Arthur said. "You risked your life,"

It was Merlin's turn to shrug. "So did you, coming back for me,"

Arthur fixed Merlin with a stare, his expression unreadable. There were dark circles around his eyes and his cheeks were red from exertion. His eyes examined Merlin’s face for a second before he smiled tight lipped. 

“I couldn’t let you upstage me now could I?” he said before quickening his pace, leaving Merlin alone at the back of the group. 

The hospital was a labyrinth of criss-crossing corridors, several of which were barricaded and locked tight. Merlin didn’t want to think about what might be lurking down there. They followed the stranger through the winding hallways. 

“How’s Morgause?” Merlin asked eventually.

“She was alive when we left her,” Gwaine answered. 

“She’s in good hands,” the giant spoke from several paces in front. Merlin nodded and smiled in response, glad that their journey hadn’t been wasted and that Merlin’s heroic almost-sacrifice had not been in vain.

As they carried on walking Merlin learned the identity of the new addition to the group; a pediatric nurse named Percival, though his friends called him Perce. He had been starting his shift as the infected started rolling in. He had walked in on what he had thought was a fight in the children’s ward, only to find that one of the new arrivals was happily chewing on the ear of the little boy from the neighbouring bed. He’d called for backup in dealing with the psychotic child but all that had arrived were doctors with a similar lust for flesh. Perce had been unable to rescue any of the children, a fact that obviously affected him greatly. His eyes shone with unshed tears at this point in his story but he plowed on, talking of how he’d managed to find a few doctors and barricade themselves in one of the wards.

Perce’s story came to an end and Merlin was left gawping and open mouthed yet again. 

“You’re a brave man,” Merlin found himself saying finally.

“So are you,” Perce replied. “Your friends told me what you did for them,”

Merlin shrugged, pretending not to hear the muffled scoffing noises coming from Arthur’s direction. 

They came to a stop outside a large ward towards the main entrance of the hospital. Perce keyed in a code and let everyone through the door. Merlin couldn’t help but notice the distinct lack of a barricade.

“This is the neurorehabilitation unit,” Perce explained, as if reading Merlin’s mind. “because of the nature of the patients, it is airlocked. If any of the infected get through this door, they still have to break down the next one to get to us,”

Perce hit the button on the wall next to the second door. An old, weathered face appeared at the window, his grim features brightening somewhat at the sight of them all. There was a quiet buzz and the door clicked open. 

They all rushed inside while Perce greeted the old man like old friends.

"How did it go?" The man asked, squinting as he examined their faces one by one.

"We found him seconds before he became zombie food," Arthur said, smirking playfully in Merlin's direction. Merlin didn't feel much like smirking back. He may have been just about to give up but that didn't mean everyone had to know. 

The man's eyes finally settled on Merlin, his face breaking into a grin. "Ah, you must be Merlin. Your friends were beside themselves until Percival volunteered to find you,"

Merlin didn't know how to respond, resorting to nodding and smiling politely.

"I am Gaius, the clinical psychologist for this unit," he held his hand out for Merlin to shake. 

"Where's Morgause?" Merlin asked dumbly as he let go of Gaius' hand.

Gaius gestured down the corridor, through the window to the closest ward Merlin could see a curtain drawn around the bed. Just outside of the curtain stood Morgana, her head resting on Gwen's shoulder. Merlin couldn't see their faces. 

As they entered the room, Merlin's ears were accosted with a high pitched shriek. Before he had chance to react, he was engulfed by a surprisingly strong pair of arms. Merlin struggled for a second, but only ended up with a mouthful of hair.

"Gwen, I can't breathe," he managed to gasp out.

She stepped back, looking sheepish for a split second before fire filled her eyes.

"If you EVER pull anything like that again Merlin Emrys, God help me I will skin you alive!" She hissed at him before pulling him into another hug. This one was not quite as bone crushing, Merlin was relieved to discover. "I was so worried,"

He shuffled a little, "I told you not to be daft,"

That earned him a smack on the shoulder but when he looked at his friend she was smiling. 

Merlin nodded towards the curtain, "How's she doing?"

Gwen's smile slipped from her lips. "She's lost a lot of blood," her eyes flickered towards Morgana. She was stood rigid, staring at the curtain though Merlin couldn't guess how much Morgana was actually seeing. The only part of her body that moved was her jaw as she nibbled relentlessly at her fingernails. 

"There's a doctor with her now," Gwen muttered. From the tone of her voice Merlin could tell that Gwen had given up hope but that she didn't dare say so for fear of upsetting Morgana. 

Merlin smiled, tight lipped. "She's in the best place now," he wasn't sure if the words were to reassure himself or the others. Either way there wasn't much effect. 

There was a handful of soft looking chairs in the corner of the room. Those high-backed, pale green, wooden-armed chairs that seemed exclusive to hospitals and doctor's waiting rooms. The sight reminded Merlin of how much his muscles ached. In that moment in time, he didn't think he'd ever seen anything look more comfortable.

"Morgana, come sit down," Merlin said, hoping to take her mind off of her injured friend. His words went ignored and Merlin wondered if Morgana had even heard them at all. 

He crossed the room and settled himself in one of the chairs. Wordlessly Mordred handed him a bottle of water, from which Merlin drank as greedily as he dared. He rested his head back against the cool, soft padding, watching the harsh light above his head through heavy eyes. He wondered how much longer they would have power for; whether power stations were still manned or if everyone had abandoned their posts. The hospital probably had a backup generator, he thought. He wondered whether it had already kicked in and how long it would continue to provide power. He would ask Gaius in the morning, he decided. For now he was too tired for anything.

**

"You killed her! You fucking killed her!" Merlin's eyes snapped open to the sounds of a woman's screams and several bangs as if something heavy was being hurled across the room.

Morgana was screaming, attempting to throw herself at Arthur. She was being held back by Perce and another man that Merlin did not recognise. Her eyes filled with rage and hate and for one dreadful second Merlin thought Morgana had become a member of the undead. 

Arthur stood in front of Morgana, pale and withdrawn. His eyes full of fear but he did not attempt to move away, he did not attempt to fight back. He just stood there, waiting for a beating from his sister. 

"It was an accident Morgana," Gwaine had stepped between the pair, holding his hands out in a gesture of peace.

"He stabbed her and now she's dead!"

Merlin's brain whirled for a moment before finally catching up to the situation. He stood quickly, ignoring the accompanying dizziness.

"What's happened?" He asked once he'd joined the group.

"He killed my friend, that's what happened!" Morgana snapped. She was starting to lose her fight, but those restraining her kept their hands on her arms.

"Morgause passed away," the stranger replied. He genuinely looked sad to be revealing the news. His blue scrubs were splattered with blood and Merlin realised he must have been the doctor Gwen had mentioned. "She lost too much blood, there was nothing we could do in the end."

Merlin nodded, a strange numb feeling overtook his body. Morgause was dead. Even after everything they had done to save her. It was as if fate was playing a cruel trick on them. 

He glanced at Morgana, so suddenly full of hate. It was the grief talking. They had all seen what had happened. Morgause had fallen onto Arthur's knife. He hadn't stabbed her and Morgana would accept that, after she'd had time to process it. 

After a few more seconds, Morgana stopped struggling completely. Perce and the doctor let their arms fall down by their sides and she let herself be led away by a concerned looking Mordred.

Once she was out of sight, Merlin's eyes travelled over to Arthur. He hadn't moved. 

"I didn't mean to," he said softly.

"We know," Gwen said, her arm draped around his middle. "Morgana's just upset,"

Arthur didn't reply. He knew that Morgana's words were born of grief and that she would eventually forgive Arthur's mistake. Looking at his eyes and the hollow sadness inside Merlin wondered whether Arthur would ever forgive himself.

Arthur let Gwen steer him back towards the circle of chairs. Merlin wanted to go over, to offer words of support but even if he knew what to say he had a feeling that they would fall upon deaf ears.

"You OK, buddy?" The doctor asked, nodding at Merlin.

He nodded quickly. "Just a bit shaken,"

"Understandable. I'm Leon. I'd shake hands but..." He trailed off, holding his blood covered hands up.

"Merlin. Thanks for your help,"

Leon smiled sadly, an expression Merlin had seen a lot recently. "I wish I could have helped more."

Merlin looked at his feet. It wasn't Leon's fault that Morgause was dead. He had tried his best. It wasn't Arthur's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault really. Just an unfortunate series of events outside of everyone's control. 

Leon shuffled away after that, presumably to wash up the best he could. Gwaine and Perce had also left, leaving Merlin stood alone. The curtain was still closed around Morgause's bed. He wondered if she was still there, dead and unmoving. Merlin found himself panicking, hoping that Morgause's death was the end of her suffering. As the thought crossed Merlin's mind the curtain twitched and he only barely managed to hold in a scream before Gaius emerged looking grim.


	5. The Change

At some point, Merlin had fallen into a fitful sleep. He woke, a tangle of limbs and sheets feeling no better for the handful of hours he'd managed to get. His head was full of clouds and his eyes stung. His body ached, twisted in an unnatural position on the hard hospital bed. He sat up, joints cracking in protest. 

Much like the previous night the group was scattered across the room. Barely a word was exchanged as everyone was lost in their thoughts, willing this all to be over. Willing the soft arms of sleep to engulf their bodies. To let them drift away, if only for an hour or two. It had been easier tonight. Their bodies running on empty but they all still flinched at the slightest noise, permanently on edge. Never dropping their guard.

There were more of them now. The additions of Perce, Leon and Gaius outweighed the loss of Morgause. More people to keep their eyes peeled, to fight against the infected. But also more people to betray them. Merlin decided he wasn't going to think about that. The new additions were NHS staff; selfless by nature. Or at least that was what Merlin chose to believe. There was no point adding any more unnecessary anxiety to the mix. 

Everyone else remained in place, curled up on their beds. If there was anyone not asleep they were ignoring Merlin's movements. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet screaming against the cold, hard floor. 

He felt grimey, covered in dirt and blood and perhaps the odd speck of brain. He was sure he must stink. He wasn't sure when he'd last had a shower. Before all of this had happened. A lifetime ago. 

Merlin ventured out into the corridor. It was deserted, all of the others scattered across the beds throughout the unit. Quietly, he tip-toed down the corridor, peering through the windows as he went. It was with a sudden lurch of the stomach that Merlin noticed the curtains around Morgause's he'd were drawn back. For a second he thought she had reanimated and was hiding around the corner, ready to pounce but when his brain finally caught up with his eyes he noticed the bed was made. The sheets were tucked in, white and crisp as if no one had been there only a few hours before. Someone had moved her. 

Merlin wasn't sure which option disturbed him the most. 

He carried on, the image of a lurking undead Morgause floating around the back of his mind. At the end of the corridor there was a set of doors. The images on the doors told him that there were two toilets: male and female. The third boasted a simplistic picture of a shower. A wetroom. Merlin's heart leapt, a feeling of excitement washing over him. 

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, letting it swing shut behind him. In the corner was a large shower area, a pump on the wall for antibacterial body wash and shampoo. This was going to be heaven. 

He padded over towards the sink, above which hung a large mirror. Merlin knew he would look terrible, but he wasn't ready for the deathly pale, scrawny guy staring back at him. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, giving the impression of two black eyes. They looked dull, devoid of their usual sparkle. His lips were pale and cracked, red in places where they had split. He looked like one of the undead. 

Nervously, Merlin fingered at his scarf. He was terrified to see what was underneath. His fingers shook as he untied the knot. The wound stung as he peeled the scarf away and Merlin winced as he realised it had started to heal around the fabric. It took a lot of effort not to throw up as the scarf fell away. Flakes of dead skin, bloody and congealed littered the material, pulled away from his neck. He dropped the scarf into the sink, dousing it with water. 

He stared at the scarf, undaring to look in the mirror. He didn't want to see it. He knew he had to look though, if he wanted to clean the wound. Merlin's stomach churned as he clapped eyes on his bite for the first time. Around the outside of the wound, a large angry red patch spread looking sore and uncomfortable. Towards the middle, Merlin could make out individual tooth marks, black and bloody. One or two wept with a clear looking liquid. A few red fibres stuck to the scabs, pulled away from Merlin's scarf. 

It was strange. The sight made Merlin feel sick, made him feel weird. It was as if he was looking at someone else, that this was happening to someone else. But Merlin knew it was his own gaunt and bloody reflection staring back with sad, worried eyes. He felt disconnected from his body, his limbs numb and his mind floating away somewhere upon the ceiling.

Then everything was black. A sharp pain in his knees, and one in his head. Someone was muttering; harsh sounding words that Merlin could not decipher. And the words were getting louder but he still could not understand. His legs felt strange; pins and needles travelling through them and across his body. The world turned red; a light glowing bright on the other side of his eyelids. And his head hurt and he was shaking and the voice was louder and his throat hurt. 

"Merlin?" Another voice calling his name. "Merlin! What the-"

The pain stopped. The shaking stopped. The voice stopped chanting.

Merlin's eyes fluttered open. He was sprawled across the cool tile of the wetroom. 

A shadow passed over him and Merlin was aware of someone kneeling next to him. His eyes blurred but eventually focussed on the concerned face of Mordred. 

"What happened?" Merlin asked, his voice was hoarse and it took a lot of effort to talk.

Mordred's eyes were wide and as he reached up to feel Merlin's forehead his hands shook. He shook his head.

"I think you had a seizure?" His tone was questioning.

"I'm not epileptic," Merlin said dumbly.

"You don't have to be."

Merlin hoisted himself up into a sitting position. He braced himself for the headache and spinning room but nothing happened. 

"Someone was here," Merlin said, remembering the chanting voice. The unfamiliar words still echoed through his head.

"I didn't see anyone leave,"

"They were whispering in my ear. And then they started shouting. It was a strange language. I don't know-"

Mordred cut him off. "Merlin. No one was here," He rubbed his face with his hands, further smudging the remnants of days old eyeliner. "It was you."

Merlin shook his head. It couldn't have been him. He didn't speak any other languages. But his throat hurt, like he had been screaming. "I don't...." 

"I heard shouting." Mordred said. His voice was low and hurried. He checked the door, making sure it was tightly closed. "Then I found you here, chanting and shaking and...." 

His brow furrowed. 

"And what?" Merlin asked.

"Maybe I was seeing things."

Merlin mustered a fake smile. "All kinds of weird shit has been going down. We've all seen things we never thought we would."

Mordred grimaced and leaned in close. His mouth resting next to Merlin's ear he said it, the words barely audible but Merlin knew instinctively he hadn't misheard. "You were glowing."

"That's impossible." Merlin thought of the bright light, visible through his eyelids.

"So is the living dead."

They lapsed into silence. Merlin still sat on the floor, Mordred crouched next to him. His expression was unreadable. He should have been scared, freaking out but the boy seemed remarkably cool about what he had witnessed. Mordred was staring at him, pale blue eyes boring into Merlin's.

Under the scrutiny Merlin suddenly felt very vulnerable, as if Mordred was looking directly into his soul. He tore his eyes away, self conscious at what Mordred might find. Panic rose in Merlin's chest.

He wasn't wearing his scarf.

He scrambled to his feet, yanking the sodden red rag from the sink and striding to the hand dryer. Mordred stumbled backwards, startled by the sudden movement. As Merlin glanced over, he saw Mordred's expression change. He looked fearful. Merlin's stomach dropped as he realised Mordred's gaze had settled on his neck.

Neither of them moved. A pair of deer caught in the headlights. Merlin's heart pounded. Was Mordred going to run and tell the others? He couldn't. They'd kick him out. Or kill him. Option one would probably lead to option two. He could only be lucky so many times.

"You're bitten," Mordred's voice was a hurried whisper as he strode over to Merlin, grabbing his arm. 

Merlin couldn't think of what to say. He was in no situation to deny it. The bite marks were there, clear as day. He turned away, catching sight of himself once more in the mirror. 

He almost didn't recognise himself. Colour had returned to his cheeks and the dark circles around his eyes had shrunk. He still looked tired but he no longer looked like he was knocking on death's door. Merlin's heart stopped as his eyes slipped to his neck. The red angry stain had shrunk to the outer edges of each tooth mark. The black blood had stopped oozing, replaced by a row of neat scabs. The infected mess from before was nowhere to be seen. 

"It's not infected." Merlin said. 

Mordred remained quiet, his intense stare returning.

"Mordred, I don't know what the fuck is happening. All I know is I was bitten. Before I even found you and Arthur and the others. And I'm still not a flesh eating monster and I'm still not dead. And ten minutes ago I felt like I was on my deathbed but now I feel better than I have in a long time and I don't know whether to be relieved or scared," the words tumbled out without Merlin meaning to. He didn't know what he was saying but it spilled out and Mordred stayed quiet and listened intently.

"You can't tell anyone," Merlin added quickly. "It will freak them out. You saw the Morgause fiasco."

Mordred was quiet for a moment but just as Merlin felt all remaining hope slipping through his fingers Mordred nodded. "OK."

The hand dryer was not very good. The jet of air and weak and cool and it took ages for Merlin's scarf to dry. Mordred leaned against the wall next to the dryer, arms folded across his chest. This was the longest the two of them had ever been on their own and was certainly the lengthiest of their conversations. Despite Mordred's promise to keep Merlin's secret, Merlin still felt on edge. 

After several minutes when the scarf was only damp Mordred shifted. He placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder, smiling gently. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out."

Merlin smiled back but it felt strained and not quite genuine. He wondered whether Mordred noticed but the younger boy didn't say anything. 

The minutes dragged until finally Merlin couldn't wait anymore. He tied the still slightly damp scarf around his neck, checking his scar was still well hidden. 

*

It was almost like the bathroom incident had never happened. Once back with the others, Mordred became as quiet and subdued as always. The only thing Merlin noticed was the occasional quizzical look from Mordred when he thought no one was watching. Even if anyone did notice, it was unlikely that they would guess what Mordred had witnessed. 

Trying not to dwell too much on the earlier events Merlin slumped onto his hospital bed. On the bedside table sat a cup of water, beside it a green but slightly bruised apple and a cereal bar. A scrap of paper was tucked neatly under the apple. 

'You need to eat, Merlin,' the note said in tiny neat letters. He instantly recognised the handwriting as belonging to Gwen and sure enough when he looked up she was watching intently from her own bed. She motioned for Merlin to eat and he smiled warmly, thankful that she had thought of him. It was only then that it had occurred to him that he hadn't eaten more than a mouthful here or there since before this had all started. 

The apple was sour, but at that moment in time it was the best thing Merlin had ever tasted. He wolfed it down, followed by the cereal bar and gulped at the water. His stomach wasn't quite satisfied and seemed to rumble in protest as he finished but Merlin knew it unwise to eat more than his share for now. They needed to be careful. 

"Meeting in the nurses office," Merlin looked up to see Arthur in the doorway. "We need to discuss some issues."

Arthur's eyes lingered on Merlin for a second too long and Merlin felt the familiar panic rushing through his stomach. Had Mordred told everyone already? Had Arthur found out some other way? He took a deep breath and reminded himself he was being paranoid. If everyone knew about his bite, they would not be as calm as they were. All hell would break loose. 

*

The nurses office was a tight fit, but they managed it. Everyone perched on swivel chairs and on the edge of desks, ignoring the now useless paperwork scattered across the room. There was a lock on the door, opened only by a code that Leon punched in to let everyone through. 

Morgana sat in the corner, glowering at Arthur but no longer looking like she was going to tear his throat out. 

"I think we need to scout the hospital," Arthur announced once everyone was settled. "If we want to stay here we need to properly secure the building. We need more supplies. We need to kill the undead and find any other survivors that might be holed up in here."

There was a murmur of general agreement. It was a dangerous mission, but not as dangerous as letting the undead continue to pile up around them while they slowly starved to death.

"Only a few will go," Arthur continued. "Enough to fight any threats and carry supplies but not so many that we will hinder each other."

Perce raised his hand. "I know the building."

"I can be the medic," Leon said. Arthur nodded at both of them. 

Gwaine also stood up. "Count me in."

"And me," Merlin startled himself as he heard himself speak. Arthur turned towards him, eyebrows raised. 

"You?"

"Why not?" Merlin shot back, feeling offended at Arthur's surprise. Did Arthur think him incapable, unworthy of fighting? Even after yesterday's events.

"I don't think you're zombie slaying material. How about you stay here and help Gaius?"

Merlin fixed Arthur with a glare, a flare of anger flowing through his veins. He was not going to be dismissed like that. "I'm just as good as you."

Arthur let out a disbelieving snort.

"C'mon Arthur. He's fast and sneaky. He could help us," Gwaine spoke up. "You saw him yesterday."

"Fine. But he's your responsibility."

As they filed out of the room moments later, Merlin took extra care to make sure his shoulder collided with Arthur's as he pushed past. He wasn't going to take insults from a pretty boy like him. Particularly when he had already proven his worth. He sunk back down onto his bed. He was surprised when seconds later the mattress sagged beside him as someone else sat beside him.

"Ignore Arthur," the voice belonged to Gwaine.

"He's a dick," Merlin spat out. 

"Yeah but he cares," Gwaine said.

Merlin scoffed. 

"It might be a funny way of showing it, but I think it's Arthur's way of protecting you," Gwaine explained.

Merlin laughed out loud. 

"No really," Gwaine continued. "Yesterday when you ran off he was beside himself. Wouldn't rest until we all agreed to look for you."

"Arthur?"

"Yeah. Just don't tell him I told you. He'll kill me," Gwaine smiled and clapped Merlin on the back. "We better prepare."

With that Gwaine was gone, off to his own bed where Gwen was loading him up with water and weapons. 

Merlin was left alone to wonder what that could possibly mean. His stomach did a flip at the thought of Arthur worrying about him. 

*  
They were facing the airlock, all grim-faced and determined. They were off to scout the surrounding area which consisted of the main entrance, reception, the canteen and a cluster of gift shops. Merlin could feel his heart hammering in his chest, last minute doubts fluttering across his mind. 

He pushed the thoughts away. He would not chicken out. He was going to prove he could do this to Arthur and to anyone else that thought he was just a scrawny weakling. He hitched his backpack up and grabbed his trusty frying pan.

"Ready?" Arthur called out.

"Ready" the test of the team chorused.

"Stick close," was the following command as the first door swung open. 

As a pack they walked through slowly, weapons poised and breaths held for the second door to open with a quiet buzz. 

The corridor outside was a mess. Blood smeared across the floor and the walls, red handprints adding to the uneasy feeling flowing Merlin's body.

"Someone's been here," Perce muttered. Merlin hadn't taken the scenery in last time, but he was more or less certain that there hadn't been bloody handprints decorating the wall before. 

"Keep your eyes peeled," Arthur instructed as they slowly edged down the corridor.

There was no one, living or dead, around. He should have been relieved, but instead the absence of others only heightened the tension. Merlin was incredibly aware of their footsteps echoing down the corridor. The only sound apart from their breathing. Everything was too quiet.

They reached the mouth of the corridor, spilling out into the main reception area. The main entrance had been barricaded, though through the windows Merlin could see a handful of undead peering in. There wasn't as many as the day before- a majority slaughtered during Merlin's diversion, but it was still enough to pose a threat. 

Merlin nudged Gwaine in the ribs, nodding towards the window. 

"Group of rotters outside," Gwaine whispered in Arthur's ear.

"Let's deal with any inside first,"

And so the five of them sidled past the entrance, hoping that the monsters outside wouldn't notice the movement.

That was when they heard it. The noise that made their blood run cold. The long, loud scream that made Merlin wince and think of damaged vocal cords. He spun, expecting to see the monsters from outside clamoring through an open window.

The windows however, were still intact, the undead outside tapping weakly. Merlin looked around, confused. The scream came again. Multiple voices shouting their wordless battle cries.

"Merlin! Move!" He realised the others had sprung into action, weapons whirring in the direction of the horde forming around them. Doors swung open, more undead spilling out, drawn by the cries of their friends. 

"There's too many!" Perce shouted, backing away from the rapidly approaching mob, mowing down any that stepped within arms reach. 

Merlin swung his pan frantically, pushing back a few of the more eager pursuers but the blows were not hard enough to cause much damage. There was a hand clasped around his wrist, dragging him backwards. He panicked for a second but the flesh was warm. Arthur was dragging him away from the mob, pushing them back into a neighbouring corridor. 

Gwaine, Perce and Leon were several feet away, slashing and bludgeoning a path through the undead. 

A strangled scream met Merlin's ears. A human scream, nothing like the animal cry of the monsters intent on making them lunch. 

An old man in a tattered dressing gown, miraculously still attached to a drip had lurched towards Arthur, catching him with a grip far too strong for his frail looking body. Arthur was pulling away and attempting to connect a blow but the angle was all wrong. Merlin's breathing quickened, his heart hammering in his throat. He couldn't let this happen. 

A warm tingle started somewhere in his chest, growing rapidly and spreading through his body, travelling down his legs and his arms to the tips of his fingers. The heat grew, hotter and hotter building at the end of his fingers, pressure pushing underneath his skin, straining to get free.

The was a loud rumble and Merlin felt himself fly backwards several feet. And suddenly the ceiling was falling, crushing Arthur's attacker. The tingling sensation intensified, almost unbearable until a split second later it was gone. Merlin was left shaking and sweating, suddenly and inexplicably drained. He rushed towards Arthur, who had fallen backwards.

"You ok?" Merlin asked, offering a hand to help him with up.

"I'm fine. No thanks to you," Arthur muttered, dusting himself off. "What the fuck just happened?"

Merlin surveyed the damage. The ceiling had completely caved in, effectively blocking the mouth of the corridor. He shrugged at Arthur's question. He was still shaking. Arthur glanced at him.

"I knew you were too much of a girl for this," he said, taking in Merlin's terrified expression. Merlin didn't answer. He knew he'd been useless in the fight, but something else was bothering him.   
He had collapsed the ceiling. He was sure of it. Something strange was happening. Something strange was happening to him, to his body and he had a suspicion that the events from that morning and the sudden rush of power and energy right now were not a mere coincidence.

He realised that he was staring at his hands and that Arthur was watching him, his angry expression softening with concern.

"They're gone." Arthur said, obviously misinterpreting the fearful expression on Merlin's face. "There's no way they're getting through that rubble."

Merlin nodded. "What about the others?"

"They'll be fine. If they've any sense they'll get back to the ward. I think the cave in took out most of the zombies," Arthur said, starting to walk down the corridor. Merlin forced himself to follow, keeping his mouth clamped shut. 

The short corridor lead to the canteen and kitchen. A quick sweep of their surroundings told them it was empty. Merlin wondered if the undead sought each other out, hunting in packs. It would explain why certain areas were devoid of the undead. He voiced this thought to Arthur who responded with a "hmm". 

There was a vending machine over in the corner, boasting an array of hot drinks and soups. 

"I'd kill for a coffee," Merlin said wistfully, more to himself than anyone. 

He turned to see Arthur watching him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Only you, Merlin."

"What?"

"The world has ended, we're being hunted down by the living dead and you want to stop for a coffee," Arthur said. 

"I miss coffee," Merlin said, only slightly enjoying winding Arthur up.

"It's been like two days!"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm usually an eight cups a day man. It's a miracle I haven't gone insane."

Arthur let out an exaggerated sigh. "Coffee would be nice," he pushed his hands into his pockets, coming out with a handful of change. "Come on, I'll treat you."

Merlin couldn't stop the grin that broke out across his face as he followed Arthur to the vending machine.


	6. The Dragon

The coffee was scalding hot and bitter. There was no milk in the machine, but in the wake of everything that had happened someone had left a scattered pile of packets of sugar strewn across the floor in their haste to get away. Merlin poured about four sachets into the polystyrene cup, ignoring the open mouthed look of disgust from Arthur.

They sat at a small table, fixed in place by heavy bolts. The plastic blue chairs fixed to the table were hard but they were adequate for now. They were situated in the back corner, away from any windows. Arthur had cleared a path to the door, should they need it. Not that it would be much use due to the pile of rubble down the corridor, courtesy of Merlin. 

Merlin tried not to think about that. He couldn't have really caused the ceiling to collapse just by willing it. Not even willing it, but just wishing for Arthur's safety. It was a coincidence, he decided. The tingling sensation lingering in his fingers nothing more than the effects of adrenaline that was surely pumping through his veins. 

They sat in silence, warming their hands on the cups. Merlin watched as Arthur lifted his own cup to his lip, taking a small sip before screwing his face up.

"That is foul!" His mouth was wrinkled in disgust. Merlin couldn't help but smile as he wordlessly pushed several sugar sachets in Arthur's direction.

"I don't take sugar," Arthur said. 

"You do if you want to drink cheap vending machine coffee," Merlin said. "Plus we need the energy."

Arthur grunted but snatched a packet anyway. This time when he tried a sip, his face was still sour but less so than before. 

Merlin smiled, fighting back the 'I told you so' that was sitting on his tongue. He took a sip of his own coffee. Arthur was right, it was unpleasant but after two days of caffeine withdrawal, Merlin still found himself closing his eyes and sighing happily, savouring the taste. 

For a moment everything felt OK. It was the end of the world. People were turning into flesh eating monsters left, right and centre. Friends were dropping like flies. Merlin was bitten and strange things were happening to him. And to top it all off he was stuck in a room drinking below average coffee with a bloke he didn't particularly get on with.

But for some reason Merlin felt safe. He felt comfortable stuck in a room drinking below average coffee with a bloke he didn't particularly get on with. He wasn't sure he dare think it but he felt optimistic. Everything would be ok. In a twisted way, everything felt right. 

They had lapsed into silence, though the lack of noise was not uncomfortable. The air was not charged with pent up energy and tension as it had been on the ward or down on campus. It was as if in that very moment people were not being ripped limb from limb, their flesh devoured by monsters. People were not dying and suddenly reanimating. Everything was normal.

Except it wasn't. 

Usually Merlin would not have offered Arthur Pendragon a second glance. Well, maybe he would. He could not deny he was attractive, but the moment he opened that prattish gob Merlin would have been on his way. 

But something about Arthur made Merlin feel safe. The way he sat, back straight and shoulders squared exuded a quiet confidence. Even when Merlin saw the momentary unsurety flicker through his eyes he felt like things were going to be alright. 

"What do we do now?" The question surprised Merlin. From what he had seen, Arthur was always quick to make a decision, easily falling into place as a leader. He'd also distinctly given Merlin the impression that his feelings and opinions didn't count. 

"I don't know," Merlin said a little dumbly.

"I don't know why I bother asking," Arthur sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest. There, that was what Merlin expected. 

"There's no other way out," Arthur continued. "We'll have to dig through the rubble."

Merlin wouldn't be surprised if Arthur had been quietly mulling over the plan before voicing it out loud. Making sure Merlin didn't have an alternative. Not that there was much of an option.

There was a swinging double door leading to a small kitchen area. There was a fire exit located inside the kitchen which could be used as a last resort, but as Arthur pointed out it would lead them straight back to a horde of zombies. It was best to avoid that unless all other options failed.

"I say we recharge here for a bit. In the morning, we can gather a few supplies and make work on the blockage," Arthur suggested. Merlin nodded in agreement. 

They sat a while longer in silence. Merlin ached to strike up a conversation but he found himself at a loss for words. Arthur looked like a stereotypical jock; golden hair, muscular build and a perfectly smug smile. His jogging bottoms and vest top left were grimey with sweat and blood and other miscellaneous dirt but they still managed to show off the curve of Arthur's bicep. Merlin, on the other hand didn't have an athletic bone in his body as evidenced by the previous day's running. He was skinny; too skinny according to his mum and Gwen. By all accounts Merlin and Arthur were polar opposites. But still....

Arthur seemed content to sit quietly. Merlin wondered what was going through Arthur's mind. Did he feel the same air of safety as Merlin? Did he feel the strange comfort radiating from the almost stranger sat across from him. But there weren't strangers any more. They had been through more than what most friends did in a lifetime. That probably automatically formed a special bond between them. Not that Merlin would go as far as saying they had bonded. 

They did talk a bit. Mostly about their current situation. They wondered aloud about the others. They discussed their first moments of the rising, Merlin yet again carefully leaving out the part about being bitten.

"You've had a lot of close calls," Arthur had commented. Merlin's stomach had flipped and his mind ground to a halt, terrified that Arthur was about to call him out. Before Arthur smiled, his eyes crinkling around the corners as he slapped Merlin on the back. "I wouldn't have thought you had it in you."

It was a compliment, Merlin decided, in a backhanded kind of way. Coming from Arthur it was probably the best he was going to get. 

That was how they carried on. They discussed strategies. Where they would like to go next.

"I would like to get back home," Merlin had said. "Check up on me mam. If she's still about."

Arthur had offered a small reassuring smile, his fingers brushing Merlin's arm softly. "If she's anywhere near as lucky as you I'm sure she's fine."

Merlin appreciated the words, but knew it unlikely. He didn't say anything.

"I know father's still alive." Arthur said. "He's not the kind of man to let a little zombie invasion get in the way of things. He's probably still sat there in his office, typing away and shouting at people." Arthur was smiling fondly in a way that made Merlin's chest flutter. Having seen a gateway into learning about Arthur, Merlin asked about his father. Arthur deflected it, his shoulders tensing and smile fading. 

Merlin decided to let it go. Arthur would open up in his own time. 

**  
"You should sleep," Merlin suggested as Arthur stifled a yawn. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I'll keep watch, don't worry."

Arthur looked like he might protest before thinking better of it. He chose a spot, close to the wall and laid himself across the floor. 

It was still warm meaning that their lack of blankets was not much of a problem. Arthur must have been exhausted as it was only a few minutes until his breathing evened out into a series of soft snores.

Merlin watched Arthur's back rise and fall, trying not to think about how it would feel to curl up next to him. That would only bring awkwardness, something that they could not be dealing with right now. Besides, Arthur probably wasn't in to that kind of thing. 

Without somebody to distract him, Merlin's thoughts turned to the tingling in his fingers, the buzz underneath his skin as the ceiling collapsed. He could feel the buzz returning, building up and pushing as if it needed to escape. He should have been scared. Or at least concerned, but all he felt was confusion and a vague sense of power.   
He dared not to think about it, but the possibility of magic danced around the corners of Merlin's mind. It was impossible. Then again, apparently, so were zombies. He shifted away from Arthur's sleeping form, angling his back towards him. Biting his lip and throwing frequent glances at the slumbering Arthur, Merlin stretched his hands out in front of him. 

He hadn't expected it to work. In his minds eye, Merlin pictured a flame. Merlin suppressed a yelp; fear or excitement he wasn't quite sure. His fingertips tingled and grew warm. There, dancing in the palm of his hand was a tiny flickering flame. He could feel the heat, but it did not burn the flesh. He let out a shaky breath of air which turned into a nervous laugh. Merlin had done that. He had created fire with just a thought. What else was he capable of? 

"Merlin."

Merlin closed his palm, extinguishing the flame and jolted towards Arthur, wondering just how he was going to explain this when he didn't even know himself. He stilled suddenly when he realised Arthur was still fast asleep.

"Merlin," the voice came again, deep and slightly taunting. When Merlin really listened it seemed as if he wasn't hearing the voice, but rather it echoed inside his own head.

He had lost it. He wasn't magical, just crazy. Hell, there were probably not even any zombies and Merlin was strapped up somewhere on a psychiatric ward in the middle of some elaborate delusion. 

"Merlin." 

While the voice was definitely sounding inside his head, Merlin felt a strange tug towards the kitchen. Perhaps there was someone in there that needed his help. He shot a glance at Arthur, still sound asleep. He could look after himself for a few minutes while Merlin poked his head into the kitchen.

He tiptoed into the kitchen, the voice still repeating his name. It was louder now, though there was no one in sight. There was a strange tugging sensation in Merlin's abdomen that pulled his attention to the centre of the room. He listened again. The voice and the tug that accompanied it were coming from below. 

Merlin was about ready to accept that he had in fact lost his marbles when he spotted a small metallic object on the floor. Bending closer, he realised it was a hinge attached to a trap door. The door itself was obscured by a large pile of pallets, once containing bread. A store room maybe. 

Merlin pushed experimentally at the pile of pallets but they were far too heavy. They didn't budge. He bit his lip, feeling very naughty as he imagined the pallets moving, grabbing hold of the buzz underneath his skin and pushing it out of his fingertips in a way he could not explain. It just happened. But as he did, the pallets glided gracefully several feet until they were well clear of the trap door. 

The door swung up easily as Merlin pulled, revealing a dimly lit set of stairs. There was a musty smell, as if the door hadn't been opened for years. Still the voice persisted, louder and clearer than ever. 

He wondered whether he should alert Arthur, but a feeling in his gut told Merlin that wouldn't be wise. He descended the stairs. 

After climbing down for several minutes, Merlin found himself in a large, empty room. Less of a room, more of a cave in fact. The ceiling was high and several openings lead away from the main area, revealing a whole network of corridors beneath the hospital. He wonders whether Perce or Leon or even Gaius knew of this place. Perhaps they were working their way towards Arthur and Merlin right that second. Or perhaps not. A nagging thought in the back of Merlin's mind told him he had stumbled upon something secret. 

"Young warlock. I have been expecting you," the voice rang in Merlin's ears, echoing around the cave. It was no longer in his head. 

He spun, realising the empty cavern was not, in fact, empty. A shrivelled old man leaned against the wall, a battered looking broomstick propped haphazardly next to him. His skin was dark and leathery, like a person that had clocked too many hours on the sunbed but the man's watery, yellowish eyes gave Merlin the impression that this man didn't see much of the sun.

"What did you call me?" Merlin said, taking a tentative step towards the old man.

He smiled widely, revealing a set of teeth far too sharp and pointy for the average human. He did not answer for a while, making a show of fishing in his pocket and revealing a pipe.

"You do not remember me," it was a statement, not a question.

"I can't say I do," Merlin admitted, though something about the man's eyes held a certain familiarity.

The man only smiled more. The expression unnerved Merlin, on the outside he displayed a mocking gleefulness but underneath, buried under many layers Merlin detected a longing sadness.

"I felt your return." The man said. "Nearly nineteen years ago, I felt your presence return."

Merlin didn't know how to reply. Here he was in some secret underground cavern with a crackpot old fool. 

"These past few days, I could feel you edging closer. I knew you were here. Then this morning. I felt as your power returned. I knew it was time."

Merlin watched the old man, only half aware of his mouth hanging open in what must have looked like an impression of a startled goldfish. And yet, despite the craziness of the notion, Merlin could feel a truth in the man's words.

"My power?" Merlin asked, wondering if the man had been spying on him.

"That is what I said, young warlock."

"Who are you?" Merlin couldn't hold the question back anymore. The man came across as completely crackers, but Merlin couldn't help but be entranced by his words.

"I am an old friend," the man replied simply. "From more than a lifetime ago."

"How is that possible?" Merlin asked.

"How is anything possible?" He shot back, fumbling with his pipe. Merlin watched, mouth dropping open as the man clicked his fingers, fire sprouting from the tip and leaping into the bowl of the pipe. The man inhaled deeply before expelling smoke from his nostrils. 

Merlin sighed. He was not getting anywhere with this old man and his cryptic messages.

"What do you want from me?"

"I am here to relay a warning. To guide you along the right path should you wish to heed it."

When the man did not continue, Merlin impatiently ran a hand through his hair. "Spit it out then."

"Patience, young warlock. You have a great destiny on your shoulders. You have been reunited with the young Pendragon-"

"Reunited? I've only just met Arthur!" 

The man waved a hand as if wafting Merlin's interruption away. "It is only with him that you can overcome this plague."

The man fell silent, watching Merlin intently.

"Not to be rude, but I think you've got the wrong people. There's nothing special about me. I'm definitely not clever enough to cure a disease like this," Merlin began to protest, imagining Arthur's reaction to the two of them being forced to work together.

"Yet you survived the infection, did you not?" The man grinned, knowing he had Merlin cornered.

"How did you-"

"I know a lot about you, young warlock. The key lies within you."

"What have I got to do?" Merlin asked.

"Time will tell. Your destiny intertwines with that of the young Pendragon. You must work together. It is written."

"What does that even mean?" Merlin asked, beginning to feel more than a little agitated. He already knew better than to expect an answer.

"Yeah, well, I'll bear that in mind," Merlin spat. "Mr..."

"You may call me Kilgharrah," the man revealed his toothy smile once more. The name stirred something in Merlin, like a long lost memory trying to resurface. 

"Kilgharrah," Merlin ventured, hoping to get at least one straight answer from the old man. "Do these tunnels lead to other parts of the hospital?"

Kilgharrah inclined his head slightly, a gesture which Merlin took to be a nod.

"Merlin, one more word of advice."

"Yes?"

"Do not trust the druid boy. Do not let him thwart you this time."

The words rung in Merlin's ears, stirring feelings of loss and sadness and an immense sense of anger, though he did not know why.

"Who is the druid boy?" Merlin asked. "What do you mean 'this time'?"

There came no response. When Merlin glanced around, he realised the old man had gone. Merlin couldn't help but wonder if that conversation had actually just happened. The evidence for insanity was building tenfold, Merlin thought. At least he had found a way out. As long as this cave and the interconnecting network of tunnels were not an hallucination. 

Shaking his head, Merlin debated just how much to tell Arthur. Arthur would surely not believe the parts about destiny and warlocks and druids. He probably wouldn't even believe the part about a strange old man sent to warn Merlin of dangers to come. He probably have Gaius whip him up a straightjacket, if they were still used, in a matter of seconds. 

He trod his way back up the stone steps and into the bright whiteness of the kitchen. He tip-toed his way back towards the door, careful not to disturb Arthur.

"Merlin!" Too late. Arthur was stood in the middle of the canteen, hands on hips. His face was pale and eyes wide with what Merlin thought was panic. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been going spare looking for you."

"I needed to pee," the first excuse that popped into Merlin's head tumbled out of his mouth.

"You needed to pee?" Arthur repeated. 

Merlin forced a smile. "You can't have looked too hard. I was only through there." He gestured to the door behind him. 

Arthur let out a breath followed by a short, loud laugh.

"Don't make me worry like that again, Merlin."

"You worried about me?" Merlin teased.

"No." Arthur said a little too quickly. "I just thought something had gotten in and taken you. I was worried they'd try to take me too."

"Of course. It's ok to admit it you know," Merlin said. He was getting far too much pleasure out of watching Arthur squirm.

"Admit what?"

"That you care about me?" Merlin ventured.

Arthur stilled for a split second, so brief it was almost imperceivable but Merlin still noticed. 

"Don't be daft, Merlin."

"I care about you," Merlin said. "Just a smidgen. That's why I came to tell you I found a way out."

Arthur's mouth fell open. "You... Why didn't you say before?" 

Arthur barged past Merlin and into the kitchen, his eyes falling onto the open trap door. 

"I didn't get chance?" Merlin responded. "Plus I was quite enjoying watching you get your knickers in a twist over little old me."

"I was not getting my knickers in a twist."

"If you say so," Merlin gestured for Arthur to descend the steps. 

There was still no sign of the creepy old man at the bottom of the stairs. Arthur was staring, open mouthed, his eyes roving around the cavern.

"What is this place?" Arthur said. His voice echoed around the walls, something Merlin had failed to notice during his earlier conversation.

"God knows," Merlin said. It was curious how the hospital had come to be built upon a labyrinth of mysterious tunnels but right at that moment Merlin did not care. This was their way out, hopefully a route back to their friends and perhaps even a secure passage to use for the shipping of supplies. 

Merlin's response seemed to be enough for Arthur, who returned the shrug. "Which way?" He asked out loud but did not wait for an answer as he strode confidently towards the nearest tunnel. It was as good a guess as any, Merlin decided. 

After about half an hour of wandering through the tunnels the optimism and excitement of a potential route out was wearing off. The light had faded to a near pitch black and Merlin could feel the tingle under his skin straining to get out, to create a light for them. 

"Why didn't you bring a torch?" Arthur suddenly snapped, stopping so quickly that Merlin walked straight into his back with a slight "oof". 

"I could ask you the same question," Merlin said. "I didn't expect to be trapped in a pitch black tunnel with a prat like you."

Merlin couldn't see Arthur's expression through the darkness but he had the sense to guess that Arthur was scowling. 

"I'm not exactly thrilled either, Merlin," Arthur shot back after a moment or two. "I'd rather be stuck down here with someone a little more competent."

It was Merlin's turn to scowl. He wanted to retort that it was only because of Merlin that Arthur wasn't zombie chow right about now. He bit back the words, knowing that Arthur would not appreciate or believe Merlin's side of the story.

"I'm sorry, who found a way out the canteen?"

Arthur let out a bark of laughter "and how useful that was. At least we could see what we were doing back there!"

Merlin sighed. "Shut your mouth and move on. It can't be much further."

To Merlin's surprise, Arthur did just that. He moved slowly, trailing his fingers across the rough stone of the wall. They carried on for a few more minutes, the floor steadily becoming more uneven; small holes and pebbles littered their path though even in the dark they were easy to navigate. Until Merlin's big toe connected with a particularly hard rock right in his path. He swallowed the stream of swears which were, rather embarrassingly replaced with a high pitched whimper.

"Be careful you clumsy fool," Arthur whispered over his shoulder.

"It may have escaped your attention but I can't see a bloody thing!"

He heard Arthur sigh and step towards him. "Come on. I'll guide you."

Too taken aback to protest, Merlin let Arthur find his hand and guided it to his waist. "Hold on and stay close," Arthur instructed.

Merlin could only nod dumbly, feeling unexpectedly flustered at the newfound proximity. For the first time during their trek through the tunnel, Merlin was thankful of the blanket of darkness. He was sure his cheeks and probably his ears had turned a lovely shade of scarlet. 

They walked like that for a while longer. Merlin wasn't sure how long, though his aching feet assured him it had been several hours. He didn't know whether they were still even beneath the hospital. It felt they had walked miles. He began to wonder if they had been walking in circles. 

"I think my eyes are playing tricks on me," Arthur said, slowing to a stop. Merlin had previously been focussed on the spot where his palm connected with the soft fabric of Arthur's vest, feeling the warmth radiate through. It was oddly comforting. He pulled his gaze away and up. Up ahead was a small pinprick of light. 

"There's light ahead," Merlin whispered.

Without discussion they set off at a run, whooping and cheering and not caring about any unseen obstacles across the floor. They spilled out into an open area. The source of light was a torch burning in a bracket affixed to the wall. On the opposite wall, two more tunnels stood, one of which was also illuminated by torches. 

They exchanged a look, equal measures of excitement and fear. Someone had been here recently. The question was whether they were still alive or if they had become a shambling member of the undead shortly after lighting these torches.

"Let's rest," Arthur decided. "We can investigate once we've had some sleep. You first. I'll keep watch."

It was only then that Merlin realised how long it must have been since he'd slept. His eyes stung with tiredness but he was unsure if he could settle down with the uncertainty of what was waiting ahead swirling around his mind. Even so, he obliged, picking the comfiest looking corner and sitting down. 

He slid onto the cool stone floor. It was much colder down here than above the ground. Merlin suppressed a shiver as his body began to lose heat to the stone. 

"I don't have a jacket or I'd let you have it," Arthur said from somewhere near Merlin's feet.

"It's OK," Merlin tried to imagine the type of jacket Arthur would wear. A hoody boasting 'AU' or 'Albion University' across the chest. It probably said 'Pendragon' across the back as well. For some reason, Merlin imagined it to be red. He sort of liked the image of preapocalypse Arthur being full of school spirit and obscenely overt about it. He smiled to himself and let his eyelids flutter shut.

He could feel Arthur's warmth near his feet. Merlin opened his eyes again. Arthur was sat, back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest. His arms circled around his knees, keeping them in place. Merlin couldn't help but think that he looked strangely vulnerable. The sadness and fear Arthur was feeling showed openly on his face now he thought no one was watching. Merlin thought about closing his eyes and letting Arthur have this moment to himself. 

"What's up Arthur?" Merlin asked. 

"Besides the obvious?" Arthur replied.

"What's the obvious?"

"Not a lot. Just you know, end of the world, most of my friends are dead, my sister hates me and I'm lost somewhere deep underground with a complete fool."

"Thanks." Merlin was getting tired of the insults, but he was learning that perhaps Gwaine was right and that Arthur didn't mean what he said. The small acts of kindness here and there showed that Arthur was decent when he wanted to be. He wasn't a complete prick. 

"So besides all that?" Merlin probed.

Arthur watched Merlin for a few seconds, his brow furrowed. "Nah. Just thinking. Shut up and go to sleep."

Merlin sighed but found himself obeying yet again. He wriggled about until he was comfy, nuding Arthur a couple of times with his feet. Eventually he felt his breathing begin to even out. His bones were aching with coldness. Without thinking, Merlin envisioned himself surrounded by warmth, tendrils extending towards Arthur and enveloping him as well. A wave of heat spread through his body and he sighed happily. He could get used to this. He started to tumble into a peaceful sleep.

Somewhere, on the edges of his consciousness he thought he heard Arthur let out a long exhale.


	7. The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite having this whole fic planned out I have been suffering terrible writer's block this past couple of weeks. I've really struggled to articulate my thoughts and I feel terrible for not getting this done sooner. I've forced myself to write and this is the product. It's not my best work but I think it's the best it will get for a while. I hope everybody enjoys it.
> 
> There's some brief mentions of asylums and mental illness in this chapter, though nothing too descriptive just in case anyone wants to avoid that.
> 
> As always there's also a fair amount of blood and gore. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy!!

At some point the cold from the hard stone floor had crept into Merlin's bones. He woke up shivering, an icy fire in his muscles. It took a few moments to remember where he was before Merlin's eyes settled on Arthur staring at the opposite wall. Judging by the glassy nature of his stare Merlin doubted that Arthur was studying the pattern of the rough stone. He was lost in his own thoughts, seemingly oblivious to the cavern around him. Arthur's hair was tousled. Merlin could imagine him running his hand through it in frustration or worry about a million times as Merlin lay sleeping at his side. There was a vulnerability to Arthur's expression. A vulnerability that awoke something inside of Merlin. An innate desire to protect and to serve. He couldn't explain it but he knew it was ridiculous. 

Merlin closed his eyes again and cleared his throat. He was unwilling to let Arthur know that he had been watching him and he was unwilling to let Arthur know the feelings that stirred inside Merlin as he did so. When Merlin opened his eyes for a second time Arthur was looking at him. His features had been rearranged into an unreadable expression. The guard was back up.

"You're awake," Arthur stated, his tone clipped.

Merlin stretched and yawned. "Did you want to sleep?"

Arthur shook his head, though Merlin could see the tiredness etched across his forehead. Merlin shot a sceptical look which Arthur brushed aside with a wave of his hand. "We ought to push on."

Merlin heaved himself from the floor. His body felt light and his head was a little fuzzy. It was only then that he realised in their excitement of finding an exit they hadn't brought any food. As if on cue his stomach growled. Arthur smirked and rolled his eyes. "That is why we need to move."

Merlin hummed in noncommittal agreement. "C'mon then."

They took the path that had been illuminated by torches. It was short and ended in a rough wooden door propped between the sides of the tunnel.

The pair stood silently, neither moving. They were barely even daring to breathe. They were here now with no clue what they were about to find. It was almost certain to be another survivor. Merlin's stomach squirmed. They had been lucky so far but it would only be so long before they found a rival group. Hostile survivors battling for supplies. That's what always happened in horror films anyway and right at that point Merlin felt that he was smack bang in the middle of one. 

"I know you're there," a voice floated through the wood, making both Merlin and Arthur jump. It was clear and commanding. Impossible to tell from the tone whether they were friend or foe, though one thing they could tell; it was unmistakably female. 

There was just about enough time to share an alarmed look before the door opened with a grating noise as it dragged across the floor. Bright light spilled into the tunnel, effectively blinding Merlin for a few seconds. When he had finished blinking the room came swimming into view.

It was white. Very white. A clinical, sterile white that made Merlin feel extremely grubby in comparison. There was a long white desk pushed alongside the opposite wall, trinkets and contraptions littering it's surface. A window above the desk looked into an adjacent room, also white.

A woman stood at the desk, her back facing Arthur and Merlin. It occurred to Merlin that she was too far away to have opened the door but from what he could tell there was no one else present. In accordance with the decor she wore a long white coat. The type that doctors or scientists might wear in a TV drama. Her hair, scraped tightly into a bun on the top of her head stood out, the only splash of colour in the otherwise white room. Even then it was dark brown, a shade or two away from black. 

"Don't just stand there," she spoke again as she fiddled with an assortment of objects that Merlin couldn't quite see. 

"What is this place?" Arthur's voice echoed around the walls as he snapped back to his senses. 

"This is my lab," the woman said as if it was painfully obvious. In part it was. Obvious that they had stumbled upon an underground laboratory. The purpose of said laboratory was a little harder to fathom. She remained facing the desk. Merlin found the whole situation a little strange, though as he was beginning to realise strange was perhaps the new norm. 

He wondered why the woman did not turn to survey them. Invested in her work, perhaps? Or was there some reason she did not wish to reveal her face. Merlin's mind raced at the possibilities, getting stuck on the sickening thought that she was indeed a member of the undead. Perhaps the zombies had evolved the ability to talk and deceive. Merlin was just considering tugging at Arthur's arm to indicate that they should quickly and quietly leave before the woman decided to eat them when she began to turn. 

Her movements were slow and stiff, doing nothing to calm Merlin's nerves. His heart hammered and he found himself poised to run. Merlin could feel Arthur next to him, his arm tensing. A little relief spread through his body, that Arthur was perhaps having the same internal struggle. At the same time a small voice in the back of Merlin's mind piped up. If they were both poised to run, feeling uneasy, perhaps there was something to worry about.

"Do not worry boys. I do not bite." The words left her mouth as she turned fully to face them. They did nothing to calm Merlin's racing heart. She leant against the counter, arms folded against her chest, watching the pair intently. 

Merlin froze under her gaze. He did not know her, that was for sure but there was a sense of recognition, a fuzzy feeling of déjà vu. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. He did not trust this woman. 

She was beautiful. In fact she was practically flawless, but there was something not quite right about her that Merlin could not put his finger on. Her ruby red lips turned upwards in a half smile but it was her eyes that intimidated Merlin most of all. They were a deep blue, reminding Merlin of deep oceans twinkling in the sunlight but they were bright; unnaturally so. It was the kind of shade a child may use when colouring a portrait though Merlin was more or less certain that those eyes would not occur in nature. He managed to pull his own eyes away from hers, looking down. 

"Do I know you?" Arthur finally found his tongue. Merlin wondered if he was feeling the same vague recognition that Merlin was.

"No." The woman answered. She unfolded her arm, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. There was a large scar covering most of her hand, Merlin noticed. Automatically he wondered whether she had been bitten but the scar looked old. The realisation calmed his nerves a little. The woman continued talking. "You do not know me, but I know you, Arthur Pendragon." 

Arthur stiffened next to Merlin. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "Many years ago, I worked with you father." She spat the words out as if they tasted bitter on her tongue. "Before he turned his back on me, leaving me with nothing."

The expression on Arthur's face was mixed. Merlin assumed that Arthur would not take well to random people badmouthing his father. On the other hand, there was interest in his eyes. 

"Your mother and I were friends," the woman continued, a genuine smile reaching her lips. "I knew her well. But Uther did not approve of my methods. He severed all contact shortly after you were born."

Merlin wondered how this woman recognised Arthur if she had not seen him since infancy. Perhaps she had managed to keep tabs on him somehow. There was something about her story that did not add up. Judging by her looks, the woman could not have been much older than them, never mind old enough to have been working with Arthur's parents before he was even born.

Arthur's expression however had softened. A look that Merlin had not seen before. "You knew my mother?" The woman nodded. "Can you tell me about her?"

She smiled again. "One day perhaps, but now is not the time. I am working on an experiment," she gestured to a set of test tubes on the workbench. Each one was filled with a deep red liquid. The sight did nothing to make Merlin feel any more comfortable. 

"Is that blood?" He asked, speaking for the first time. 

The woman's eyes snapped towards him, fixing him with an unreadable stare. "There is no fooling you, is there Merlin?"  
Her smile turned into a smirk as if she was aware of the unease that she was causing and as if she was relishing every moment of it. Merlin was not surprised that this woman knew his name. Despite his innate dislike for the woman, he somehow felt drawn to her. He got the feeling that she had some of the answers he was seeking. She already seemed to know much more than she should.

Arthur, on the other hand, appeared completely oblivious that anything was amiss. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Where are my manners? I am Dr Waters. You may call me Nimueh," she held out her scarred hand for Arthur to shake. The name jarred something inside of Merlin. He felt as if he had swallowed a bunch of live snakes that were now writhing around in his stomach. An image of the creepy old man from the cavern flashed through his mind. 

Every fibre of Merlin's being was telling him to run. Something was wrong. This woman was trouble. Yet something kept him rooted to the spot. He felt that Nimueh knew the answers to so many of his questions. She knew what was going on. 

As Arthur stepped forward to shake the woman's hand the door closed softly behind him. 

"What are you working on?" Arthur asked, gesturing towards the test tubes.

Nimueh smiled again. As Merlin studied her face he started to become aware of subtle imperfections; there were cracks in her make up and small bags under her eyes. It somehow made Merlin feel a little better that this intimidating woman was struggling as well.

"I am working on a cure," she stated turning back towards the desk. 

"A cure?" Arthur echoed. "For what?"

She let out a tinkling laugh. It echoed around the walls, hurting Merlin's ears. Arthur's expression of confusion smoothed into one of realisation. 

"You're working on a cure for whatever is happening up there?" He gestured towards the ceiling.

Nimueh inclined her head in affirmation. Merlin did not know how to take this. According to the old man, Kilgharrah, Merlin was the key to the cure. Were he and this woman striving for the same outcome? Was Merlin supposed to join forces with this woman? The very idea felt wrong to the core. Nimueh's eyes flickered towards Merlin, sending a jolt of panic down his spine. He imagined her reading his mind and made a conscious effort to keep his thoughts neutral. Just in case. 

"These are vials of blood belonging to those that have been bitten," she explained. Merlin understood that she was looking for any potential abnormalities but it didn't calm his nerves any to know that they were full of the infection. One slip of the hand... He didn't want to think about it.

Merlin decided that he didn't want to know how the doctor had gotten hold of the blood of bite victims. Arthur had stilled again, his face an odd mixture of expressions. Merlin wondered again whether Arthur also was experiencing the strange sense of foreboding. If he was, Merlin imagined it to be somewhat neutralised by the hope of learning about his mother alongside a potential cure for whatever was turning people into flesh eating monsters. 

Arthur took a tentative few steps towards Nimueh. It took a lot of effort for Merlin not to catch hold of him and drag him back. What if Arthur somehow contracted the infection? 

"As far as we know the infection can only be transmitted via bodily fluid. The most common example would be from saliva into the blood. You should be fine unless you have any open wounds on your hands. Either way, try not to touch." The doctor explained cooly. For the second time since entering the room Merlin wondered whether she could hear his thoughts. It wasn't too far fetched with all of the other strange, seemingly impossible happenings. Or was Merlin simply slipping into a state of paranoia? He didn't know which option was preferable. At least paranoid insanity meant it less likely that he and Arthur were about to be subject of terrifying examinations. 

After a few tense seconds, Merlin stepped forward so he was once more level with Arthur. From this position he could see a trio of screens set up against the wall. One was blank but the other two displayed images Merlin couldn't quite make sense of. The first was a CCTV image of a room not unlike the one they currently occupied. It was white and sterile looking, though in the centre of the room stood a large, imposing machine. The second screen boasted a series of images that Merlin recognised as a set of brain scans. Green, yellow and red areas lit up across the images, constantly moving and changing. He knew that the lights signified brain activity but he had no idea what any of it meant. 

"What is this?" He asked without thinking.

Nimueh barely glanced up before gesturing to the window separating the two rooms. "They allow me to monitor what's happening in the MRI machine."

Arthur's eyes widened. "You're scanning someone right now?"

The woman nodded. "Do not worry, he is completely restrained. He is not a threat."

The words did little to calm Merlin's hammering heart. It was one thing when this was an encounter with a creepy scientist. Knowing that there was just a wall separating them from a biter was another thing entirely. They needed to leave. Soon. 

"Ah. It looks like the scan is complete," Dr Waters said as the room filled with silence. A whirring noise that Merlin had been previously unaware of stopped abruptly. She moved across the room and tapped a few buttons on a keyboard.

Slowly, through the window, Merlin watched as a long board slid out of the machine. Nimueh had not been lying, the man was clearly restrained; his wrists and ankles bound by leather straps, cutting into the grey flesh as he strained against them. It reminded Merlin of scenes from old asylum footage in which patients struggled screaming violently against their restraints. His white gown was specked with blood, seeming to be trickling from his mouth. It was unclear if it was his own blood or whether the zombie had recently fed. The little colour in Arthur's face began to drain. He was glancing at Nimueh every few seconds though her expression remained impassive. Part of Merlin thought this was because she was confident in her promise that the monster could not get free. Another, louder part of Merlin's brain screamed it was because she didn't care whether he broke free or not.

"Well," Merlin said, desperately hoping that Arthur would catch on. "This has certainly been interesting but we need to get going."

"But you've only just arrived."

"Our friends will be wondering where we have got to," technically, he wasn't lying. Nimueh's lip curled upwards at the edge. She looked as if she was about to say something when suddenly a loud siren filled the room.

"Shit!" The doctor cursed, turning back towards the screens and frantically tapping keys. The restrained zombie was now sat up on its stretcher, having some how snapped the leather bands around its wrists. It was clawing at the bonds on its ankles, making surprisingly short work of them with impossibly sharp talons. 

They didn't need to exchange any words to know that it was time to leave. In less than a second, Arthur's fingers were clasped around Merlin's own, dragging him to the door. Between the pair of them they wrenched the door open. Nimueh remained stationary next to her computer.   
"Dr Waters, you need to come with us before it breaks out!" Arthur shouted at the woman. A loud thump told them that the monster was free and now banging on the window.

"You go," the doctor said, her voice alarmingly calm for the situation. "I'll hold him off."

Arthur was about to protest until Merlin shoved him through the door. When he took one last look at the doctor she was smiling. "It's a shame you didn't want to help me with my research Merlin. We would have made a great team," she said. Then slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time she rubbed her neck thoughtfully. Merlin's breath hitched. She couldn't know. There was no way she could know about Merlin's bite. But there she was, smirking. 

A loud crash jerked Merlin back into action. The window had broken and the zombie was pulling itself across the jagged edges frantically scrambling towards them. Still Nimueh stood calmly watching the events unfold. The zombie stumbled to its feet, fixing its sights on the pair in the doorway. A harrowing scream tore from the monster's throat.They took that as their cue to run. Their feet slapped against the stone floor, echoing with every step. It wasn't long before they reached the fork in the road, taking the path they had not yet trodden. 

Merlin didn't know how long they ran for. All he knew was that his chest burned and his fingers tingled from where they were still intertwined with Arthur's. After a while the stone tunnel evened out into a long thin corridor. Their pace slowed though Arthur did not drop Merlin's hand. 

"We need to stop." Arthur said eventually. "I think we've lost it."

Merlin nodded. The corridor was lined with doors but after last time he was unsure that he was comfortable barging into any unfamiliar rooms. Arthur on the other hand didn't have quite as many reservations and flung open the nearest door. Thankfully it was empty, save a large desk, a handful of plastic chairs and a filing cabinet.

Without speaking, Arthur wedged the door handle with the back of one of the plastic chairs before throwing himself down onto the desk. He sat, head in hands and his feet dangling. Merlin didn't sit down. He didn't know if he could. He ached to take Arthur in his arms and just sit there for hours until this all blew over. The only problem was this wasn't going to blow over. 

When Arthur hadn't moved for a good few minutes, Merlin cleared his throat "You OK bud?" He asked. Despite his muscular physique, in that moment Arthur looked so small, so vulnerable. Merlin's chest ached.

Arthur shrugged, letting out a defeated sigh. He was quiet for a few more moments before he said, barely a whisper "She knew my mother."

Merlin didn't know what to say. He placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. It was a surprise when Arthur leaned into the touch.

"My father never speaks of her. The only pictures he has he keeps locked in a drawer in his study. I learned at an early age that it was unacceptable to speak of her, to ask questions." Arthur carried on.

Merlin thought of his own father and how it was growing up without him. How the subject made his mum clam up and freeze. He too had learned not to ask questions. He didn't voice this. This was Arthur's time. Without thinking, Merlin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the other man, bringing Arthur's head towards his chest. Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur's hair, thankful that Arthur did not pull away. He needed this. They both needed this. 

"Do you think that Dr. Waters is alright?" Arthur asked. Merlin had no doubt that the doctor was perfectly fine; the way the zombie bypassed her as it made a beeline towards himself and Arthur. 

"She seems like she knows what she's doing," Merlin answered. He didn't want to voice his suspicions about Nimueh and her air of creepiness. 

"Should we go back for her?" Arthur mumbled the words into Merlin's chest. Merlin was sure that Arthur must have felt him tense at the question. Obviously Arthur wanted any information he could get his hands on. That and he was far too noble to let anyone perish at the hands on the undead if he could help it. Merlin thought about it. Despite the unease the woman made him feel Merlin had to admit he was intrigued. She had to know far more about this plague than anyone else they had come across. 

"Maybe. I think we should find the others first. Regroup. Then we can check on her to make sure she's alright."

Arthur nodded slowly, the movement ruffling Merlin's T-shirt. 

"What now?" Merlin asked, aware of how that was always the question on their lips.

Arthur shrugged again. "We find the others." 

Merlin nodded in agreement, though neither of them moved. He could feel Arthur's hands on his back, warm and strong and comforting. His thumb was rubbing small circles along Merlin's spine. 

"Can we rest a little first?" Arthur voiced. Merlin was a little taken aback by the question but he knew how tired Arthur must be. Emotionally and physically.

"Of course," Merlin said, reluctantly untangling himself from the embrace before hopping up onto the large desk. Arthur smiled sleepily, allowing himself to flop backwards and pull his legs up into the desk. It was big enough for them both to lie on side by side. 

"Want me to keep watch?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I think we'll hear anyone come in."

Merlin studied the door, wedged shut with the door and realised that Arthur was probably right. 

"Quick nap and then we're off to find the others," Merlin confirmed.

"Mhmm," Arthur was already drifting off. "And food."

"And food yes," Merlin repeated realising that they still hadn't eaten.

He shuffled around until he found a comfortable spot on the desk letting his exhaustion pull him into a dreamless sleep.


	8. The Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long this has taken! It's exam period again so I've been working my backside off on assignments and as a result completely ignoring my fics! But I have had my last exam for a month or so and I've managed to bash this out. I was really excited to write this chapter so I hope I have done it justice. I hope you all enjoy, even if there is a little bit of angst. I just can't resist!

When Merlin awoke there was a warm pressure across his chest. For a second he began to panic, before slow rhythmic breathing filled his ears. Arthur was beside him, fast asleep. His arm was draped across Merlin's body engulfing him in a warm embrace as if he was a teddy bear. Arthur's leg lay atop Merlin's own, securing him in place well and truly. Merlin stayed still and wondered what to do. Truthfully, he didn't really want to move. He was actually kind of enjoying the warmth enveloping him, even if Arthur was completely oblivious and likely to freak out as soon as he opened his eyes. 

Merlin cast his mind back to the moments before they had gone to sleep. He had held a broken and vulnerable Arthur in his arms, stroked his hair and his back. He had soothed him and Arthur did not pull away in disgust or make an unsavoury comment. He had leaned into the affection. He didn't mind. Perhaps he even wanted it. Merlin sighed to himself. Things would probably be different this morning. Arthur had been exhausted, physically and emotionally. Even a prat like him was entitled to a moment of weakness. After recharging his batteries, it would probably be back to petty jabs and insults. 

Arthur was still in a deep sleep. Perhaps Merlin could enjoy a few more moments of closeness before he had to worry about all hell erupting. He closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth. His body tingled pleasantly. 

Images of Nimueh floated before Merlin's eyes. His gut told him not to trust her. She was dangerous and Merlin couldn't quite shake the feeling that the escaped zombie had not exactly been accidental. Merlin wondered however, despite the negative vibes he picked up on whether she could be a valuable asset. She was clearly very intelligent. She knew more about the plague than anyone else he had met so far. Was there even anyone else working on a cure? Or had the rest of the world already been ripped to shreds by the flesh eating beasts?

He turned to look at Arthur. He looked so peaceful, his face smooth without the furrowed brow which had become the norm. Merlin wondered whether he had been fair to him. Nimueh had information about Arthur's mother, a subject that Arthur's father had never spoken about. Of course Arthur was thirsty for information. Merlin would be too if someone told him that they knew his dad. He wasn't sure if they could afford to go back to the lab. Not before they found the others. If Nimueh was not to be trusted, the more of them the better. Perhaps Gaius would know her. He would know if she was a doctor belonging to the hospital. 

As Merlin watched Arthur, his eyes began to flutter beneath their lids. Merlin smiled to himself, wondering what Arthur could be dreaming of. He knew by now that Arthur must be close to waking so he slowly extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and slid off of the desk. 

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice was panicked as he catapulted into a sitting position, looking around wildly.

"I'm here, Arthur," Merlin said, keeping his voice soft.

"I thought you'd gone," Arthur breathed. "I woke up and you weren't there."

Perhaps Merlin should have stayed in place after all. "I just needed to stretch my legs,”

Arthur huffed gently before letting out a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back. His muscles rippled underneath the grimy vest top. It was sticking to Arthur's chest with sweat. Merlin thought back to moments before when he was engulfed in that strong embrace. As Arthur finished the stretch Merlin realised that he was staring and quickly began examining the dirt that was beginning to cake underneath his fingernails. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Arthur watching him, one eyebrow quirked and his lips slightly pursed. Had he noticed.

Merlin didn't know what had gotten into him. Why he suddenly craved Arthur's touch so much. Sure, Arthur was attractive Merlin had to admit. He'd have to be blind to miss that, but he was also a pompous prat. Full of himself with little regard for Merlin's feelings. But was that strictly true? During their time together Merlin had seen the mask slip, revealing the scared little boy beneath the tough exterior and blanket of insults. Arthur craved affection and reassurance but he was too afraid to ask for it. Or perhaps after only a couple of days of solitude Merlin was experiencing some kind of Stockholm syndrome. He swallowed. That must be it. 

There was a scraping noise as Arthur removed the chair that was blocking the door. "Come on Merlin, make yourself useful for once."

Merlin gritted his teeth, joining Arthur at the door. Now was not the time to get distracted. Anything could be waiting on the other side of this door. 

"On three," Arthur hissed, one hand on the handle, the other raised ready to strike or guard as needed. Merlin did his best to copy the stance, feeling slightly awkward and hoping that Arthur would not laugh at him.

"One..."

Merlin held his breath, his head spinning with all possible outcomes once they opened the door. Nimueh waiting for them, her artificial red smile firmly in place. Or a horde of the undead clamouring over one another to rip into his succulent juicy flesh.

"Two..."

His heart beat a tattoo against his ribcage. The rest of their group, waiting with open arms. Or a chainsaw wielding maniac covered in blood splatters and chunks of internal organs and...

"Three!"

Merlin's fingers tingled, the energy within him pushing to get out, to defend against whatever stood at the other side of the door. The door swung open to reveal...

Nothing.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, dropping his defensive stance. The power bubbling beneath his skin subsided.

Arthur let out a laugh. "You're such a girl Merlin."

Yes. Arthur was still a prat. "You were scared too."

"I don't get scared Merlin," Arthur stated. He started walking through the corridor.

"Of course you don't," Merlin rolled his eyes and began trailing after him. 

They walked aimlessly for what seemed forever. It couldn't have been more than an hour, but Merlin's muscles burned from exertion. His stomach was cramping, shouting out for food. His throat sore and eyes dry from dehydration. Arthur was flagging too and Merlin was sure that he was struggling but he refused to give up. He leaned on the wall for support as he shuffled along. 

"If we can find the canteen again, we can collect our supplies. We can refuel." Arthur said.

Merlin hummed a non-committal noise. He just wanted to sit down. To rest, just for a second. He tugged gently on Arthur's elbow.

"Don't you dare Merlin," Arthur said. "If you stop now you won't get up again." He made a grab at Merlin's arm, dragging him along behind.

Merlin knew he was right, but he stomped his foot and pouted anyway, like a spoiled toddler not getting his own way.

"I think we're going in circles," Merlin said, spotting a familiar crack in the wall. It was dark within the tunnel system, but not pitch black as before. 

Arthur came to a complete stop before letting out a frustrated groan. He raised his first and for a moment, Merlin thought Arthur about to strike him. He flinched just as Arthur's fist connected with the stone. Arthur swore, cradling his bruised knuckles to his chest. 

Rolling his eyes, Merlin pulled Arthur's injured hand towards him. He couldn't see in the dim tunnel, but he could feel the hot stickiness of fresh blood. For a second, Merlin almost pulled off his scarf to use as a bandage before remembering that he was hiding his own scar. A scar that, though healed, would raise a lot more questions than a few bloody knuckles. From what he could tell the blood was oozing slowly. It would scab over soon enough anyway. He prodded at the flesh on Arthur's hand getting a sharp intake of breath in response.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered. "It feels a bit swollen but I don't think anything's broken."

Through the shadow, Merlin was aware of Arthur studying him. It took a few moments before Merlin realised that he was still holding Arthur's hand and he dropped it quickly, as if burned. Arthur cleared his throat, turning away and rubbing the back of his neck with his uninjured hand.

"Yes. Well..."

Merlin acknowledged the mumbled words as Arthur's clumsy way of a thanks. It was probably the best he was going to get out of him. They carried on walking in near silence as quickly as their tired legs could muster. Before long they reached a fork in the path.

Merlin's head buzzed. He felt sick and shaky and weak. He caught hold of the back of Arthur's vest as his knees buckled. In a flash Arthur was holding him, looping Merlin's arm over his shoulder. "What's the matter?"

Merlin shook his head trying to think straight. Something wasn't right. Something unnatural lay within one of those tunnels, waiting to pounce. To tear them apart. 

"Something's not right," Merlin said. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead that he knew was nothing to do with the heat.

"You're just hungry. We're nearly there," Arthur decided. He stepped forward, dragging Merlin towards the black pit. A wave of nausea rolled over him as the feeling of wrongness intensified. Merlin groaned.

"We can't go down there, Arthur. It's not safe," Merlin protested. Weakly, he tried to point Arthur down the other path. 

"If you haven't noticed, Merlin, it isn't safe anywhere!" Arthur hissed. "Now stop being such a wuss."

When Merlin refused to move again Arthur let out a heavy breath and promptly picked Merlin up, slinging him over his shoulder. Merlin suppressed a shriek that threatened to spill out as he suddenly hung upside down. He was surprised that Arthur didn't buckle under his weight. Merlin knew that he wasn't exactly heavy. There wasn't much to him but he was tall, ever so slightly taller than Arthur. Plus, the way that Arthur had been stumbling and holding onto the wall for support did not fill Merlin with confidence. It seemed that Arthur was determined to carry on and he wasn't going to let silly things like exhaustion and dehydration get in his way. 

Arthur plowed on, perhaps a little slower than before but maintaining a steady pace. Merlin's feeble attempts at protest went ignored until eventually he gave up, letting himself go limp so that his head bobbed in time with Arthur's footsteps. The sense of wrongness did not subside as they carried on, rather Merlin's insides squirmed fiercely and his head spun with each small movement. It was a wonder that he did not vomit across Arthur's back. 

"What was that?" Arthur whispered, coming to an abrupt halt.

Merlin attempted to answer that he didn't hear anything but the words would not form. He strained his ears to listen. The noise was faint and if Arthur hadn't mentioned it Merlin would not have registered it. A shuffling sound came from further up the tunnel, too far away for them to see the source in the dim light. Carefully, Arthur lowered Merlin to the ground. He swayed a little as his head spun, clutching at his stomach with one hand and Arthur's vest with the other.  
"It sounds like someone walking towards us," Arthur said, his voice barely a whisper. 

Merlin grimaced. This could not be good news. His heart was pounding in his ears. 

"Show yourself!" Arthur called out as Merlin desperately shook his head. The last thing they needed to do was draw attention to themselves. He somehow knew what to expect before the shriek reached their ears. 

It was hoarse and impossibly loud, echoing around the walls until it sounded like a million voices screaming unintelligibly at them. It made Merlin's throat hurt as he imagined vocal cords being stretched and vibrated to the extreme until they tore under the pressure. In the distance, a figure stumbled into view, paused in an aggressive stance. The figure was shrouded in shadow, too far away to distinguish its features, though judging by the scream and threatening pose, it was not friendly. 

Merlin bit back the urge to tell Arthur that he had told him that there was nothing but trouble down this route. The pair stood still, facing the source of the screaming. Arthur stood straight, head held high and ready to fight. Merlin's light-headedness had reached a crescendo, a headache forming somewhere behind his eyes. His fingers were tense and he realised they were still grasping Arthur's vest. He tried to let go but he felt as if he was made of stone, heavy and unmoving.

The figure flung its head back, another terrifying scream erupting from its throat. Merlin had images of its lungs exploding from the exertion, a fountain of blood spewing forth from its lips. It began to move forwards, one foot dragging along the floor. As it did, two more figures emerged from the shadows, lurching forwards with arms outstretched.

"Shit." Arthur said, finally taking a step back. The movement caught Merlin off guard and he staggered backwards. More and more figures were appearing out of the darkness, stiffly walking towards Merlin and Arthur. They had to weapons. Their only hope was to run which was easier said than done. Merlin's body tingled, an electric current running beneath his skin. He pushed Arthur "Go! Run!"

"You are not being a distraction again Merlin. I refuse to leave you," Arthur said, grabbing Merlin's wrist and taking off at a steady pace. Merlin stumbled behind Arthur, tripping as he was dragged along. His movements were slow and jerky, he felt like he would look more at home in the mob of undead slowly approaching. His free hand found its way to the scar on his neck, holding it absent-mindedly as he ran. He shook his head. No. He wasn't turning. Not after all this time. Not now. 

He was on the floor, legs finally giving way from underneath him. His hand was wrenched painfully from Arthur’s grasp as Arthur stumbled a few more steps, suddenly propelled forward after the loss of Merlin’s weight. Merlin managed to flip himself over but he couldn’t find the strength to pick himself up. The groans of the approaching undead grew louder. Almost as if they were excited and spurred on by the fact that their prey had fallen. He managed to scramble back a few centimetres away from the shadowy figures rapidly gaining on him.

His head was pounding, vision swimming in and out of focus. His stomach churned with every step that the zombies took. His entire body tingled, tiny sparks dancing within his muscles. His fingers itched. They were almost upon him. Automatically, Merlin flung his arms up, shielding his face from the imminent attack. There was a surge of electricity somewhere deep inside him, a final rush of power pouring from his fingertips as the zombie at the head of the crowd tripped over thin air. It fell, mouth snapping inches away from Merlin’s ankle. A sickening crunch could be heard over the groans as the monster landed awkwardly on its arms, splintering them both. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to cause a momentary sense of confusion as the undead fought to scramble over the top of their fallen leader. Merlin scooted backwards, instantly feeling much more energetic.

There was a pair of hands underneath his armpits, heaving him back onto his feet. Merlin allowed himself to be lifted finding himself staring into Arthur’s started features. Genuine fear glinted in Arthur’s eyes for a split second before he turned abruptly, dragging Merlin behind him once more.

“If you’ve quite finished messing about,” he heard Arthur mutter but he chose not to respond.

Merlin knew that to Arthur the trip would look like an accident, but the energy running through his core, the sense of exhilaration told another story. He had used magic again. It had just happened. He could feel the build up, but he had been powerless to stop the surge of energy escaping from his fingertips. It was terrifying. Even more terrifying perhaps was the fact that Merlin kind of liked it. 

The sense of unease seemed to lift, replaced by sheer adrenaline. His heart pounding and burning lungs went almost unnoticed as an inappropriate giggle rose in his throat, threatening to spill. He still had just enough sense to swallow it down lest Arthur decide Merlin had finally cracked. He probably had. 

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Rough stone walls rushed past them, the sounds of the undead growing fainter as the gap between them increased. The feel of Arthur's sweaty palm pressed against his own. A series of colours and sounds and sensations Merlin could barely begin to perceive as they sped past. Until everything stopped.

The first thing Merlin noticed was the loss of pressure against his palm as Arthur extracted his hand from Merlin's grasp. They were in a room, not unlike the one they had woken in that morning. Merlin wondered just how many passageways and hidden rooms there were tucked away in this labyrinth and what exactly their purpose was. Arthur was panting as he manhandled miscellaneous furniture into a makeshift barricade next to the heavy wooden door. Merlin was confident that they had lost the herd following them but it was better to make sure. Arthur slotted the last desk into place and turned, leaning against the barricade. His chest heaved as he panted, his eyes tightly shut and hands gripping at the smooth metallic surface of the desk.

"Arthur..." Merlin ventured, his voice came out low and hoarse.Arthur's eyes snapped open, fixing Merlin with an unreadable look. A thousand different emotions seemed to pass through his eyes before Arthur launched himself at Merlin, engulfing him in a tight hug. Merlin's breath hitched at the bone crushing embrace but he was thankful for the contact, wrapping his own arms around Arthur's shoulders. The force caused Merlin to stumble backwards until he was backed up against the wall.

"I thought they'd got you," Arthur said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"I thought they'd got me too," Merlin confessed.

Arthur lifted his head from Merlin's shoulder from where it had landed as Arthur clung to Merlin. His lips twitched in a momentary half-smile. The proximity and the strangeness of the situation hit Merlin all at once. Of course since they had been stuck with each other the pair had grown closer, begun to depend on each other maybe. Merlin might even tentatively call Arthur a friend, though he wasn't sure he would do it within earshot of the boy in question. It was Arthur. Jerk-ass Arthur the prat. He was bossy and arrogant and far too proud. Yet here he was, hanging off of Merlin like a child. 

Not a child. A lover perhaps? As the thought crossed Merlin's mind, he felt Arthur shift. His head fell gently back onto Merlin's shoulder as his body seemed to relax. The tight grip slackened slightly but it was still firm. Strong and comforting. Against his better judgement, Merlin let his hands wander lower, rubbing Arthur's back soothingly and letting himself melt into the touch.

A small breath escaped Arthur's lips and despite the thin scarf separating Arthur's breath from Merlin's neck he couldn't help but shudder in response. Arthur glanced up at Merlin, not bothering to lift his head this time. He showed no sign of moving though Merlin wasn't sure he really wanted him to.

Merlin didn't know what he wanted. His body ached for physical contact. For comfort. For someone to hold him and tell him no matter how fucked up things were right now that they were going to get better. He supposed that Arthur just wanted the same. That this was his way of expressing himself. 

"It's going to be okay you know," Merlin ventured. 

Arthur snorted into Merlin's scarf before picking his head up and looking into Merlin's eyes. "What makes you think that?"

Merlin shrugged the best he could still wrapped in Arthur's limbs. "Just a feeling I've got."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Another feeling, eh?"

Merlin nodded. The adrenaline from the earlier chase was beginning to wane, his head a little cloudy but his heart was still hammering away. Arthur was close, very close. He let out a small puff of air, a silent laugh that tickled Merlin's cheek. 

"You really are an idiot," Arthur muttered, closing the gap between them.

It was brief and gentle lasting only a second before Arthur pulled back, eyes wide and staring. Merlin stared back in shocked silence. Whatever he had expected it wasn't that. 

"I... Err...." Arthur managed to splutter before Merlin recaptured his lips forcefully. For a brief moment Arthur stilled and Merlin’s mind whirred with panic before Arthur grabbed Merlin’s waist, pulling him close. Arthur returned the kiss aggressively, his fingers digging pleasurably into Merlin’s sides. He could feel the emotions pouring from Arthur, channeled through the fusing of their lips. Frustration, anger and anxiety seemed to seep out of his very being and Merlin could feel Arthur’s body begin to relax as he became accustomed to the feeling of Merlin pressed against him. 

Merlin felt himself moan softly into Arthur’s mouth as he bit gently into Merlin’s lower lip, pulling and sucking. He could feel Arthur smiling, clearly relishing the response as his hands trailed lower, cupping Merlin’s backside to bring him ever closer. He couldn’t help but melt into the embrace, opening his legs slightly and winding his foot around Arthur’s calf. It was impossible to get any closer. The kiss was sloppy and clumsy and more than a little desperate as they groped at each other, Arthur fisting at Merlin’s t-shirt while Merlin tugged at Arthur’s hair. Arthur ground his hips, dragging another moan from Merlin as the movement went straight to his cock. He felt himself arch into the pressure, tilting his head back to rest on the rough stone of the wall. The movement broke the seal between their lips, Arthur instead resting his forehead on Merlin’s shoulder as he continued to grind himself against Merlin’s groin. Merlin whimpered somewhat incoherently. He cursed himself for what he was letting Arthur do to him, but in that moment he didn’t care. All he could think about was the unfortunate amount of clothing preventing their skin from touching. Arthur shifted slightly, mouthing at the join between Merlin’s jaw and his neck, nibbling and sucking. The pressure of Arthur’s hand grasping Merlin’s side left abruptly and there was a short tug on Merlin’s scarf.

Merlin stilled. Arthur was fumbling with the knot of Merlin’s scarf, willing it to come undone. Shit. The moment the material left Merlin’s neck this would be all over. His wound would be out in the open and despite the fact that it was healed and no longer weeping and despite the fact that Merlin had gone this long without keeling over and developing a taste for human flesh no one would be willing to trust him. He’d be cast aside. Banished from the group. Pain rose in his chest. Arthur would hate him. 

“Stop.” Merlin commanded, trying desperately to keep his voice level. “We can’t do this.”

Arthur stopped, stepping back. Merlin deliberately didn’t look at him, not thinking he could stand the look that Arthur would be giving him. He wasn’t sure if it would be betrayal or anger. He couldn’t handle either at the moment.

“Merlin?” Arthur ventured. He didn’t raise his voice. In a way, Merlin wished he did. It would give him an excuse to argue back, to nip this in the bud before anything really started. Before Arthur could discover who he really was. What he really was.

“Don’t, Arthur. This isn’t right,” he fingered his scarf absent mindedly, making sure it hadn’t worked loose. He could feel his hand shaking and his stomach squirming. He had to get out. “We need to get back to the others.”

Arthur sighed but didn't respond. Instead he shoved at the furniture blocking the door. He flung the door open and gestured for Merlin to leave.

“Sorry,” Merlin breathed, his chest aching.

“No. I’m sorry for ever thinking that this,” Arthur gestured between at Merlin and then himself, “Could ever work.”

Merlin didn’t know how to respond. He did not have chance before Arthur had left the room, making his way down the corridor. Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose, staving away the prickling in the corner of his eyes before following a few paces behind.


	9. The Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Once again I am sorry for how long this has taken! I have finally finished my studies so I'm hoping to now have more time to focus on writing my fics. I hope this chapter is up to scratch, please let me know what you think and as always constructive criticism is welcomed. I hope everyone enjoys!

Immune chapter 9.

This time they managed to find their way back to the cave underneath the canteen with little effort. The air crackled, though Merlin couldn't tell if it was the tension emitting from the both of them or something else. The path had seemed to open up as if by magic. There were no more obstacles in their way. It was too convenient. Not that Merlin was going to complain. He wasn't about to let Arthur run off on his own, but he was finding it increasingly frustrating to spend time with the man. 

It wasn't as if Merlin could explain to Arthur why he had freaked out, but it pained him to see Arthur take it as a personal insult. The kiss replayed in Merlin's head, his already weak knees knocking together. Fuck. If he wasn't so hungry and dehydrated he'd have probably grabbed hold of Arthur there and then. He'd tell him to keep the scarf on. Maybe it would be kinky. Merlin paused, closing his eyes tight and shaking his head. He couldn’t think like that. 

Wordlessly, Arthur threw open the trapdoor leading into the canteen. The pair stood quietly for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Neither dared look each other in the eye. Merlin kicked at the floor gently, waiting for Arthur to make the first move. He didn’t want to mess things up any more than they were already. Instead he focussed on the toe of his shoe. It hadn’t been in the best of conditions before trudging God-knows how many miles through winding underground tunnels but now they were caked with dust. The once black material was now faded and stained grey and a small hole was threatening to appear beside his big toe. Somewhere beside him there came a heavy sigh before Arthur shifted and slowly ascended the staircase.

The canteen was how they had left it. A dull light filtered in through the windows, blocked by the thick grey clouds that had congregated in the sky. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was and the strange dimness made Merlin’s eyes strain. It didn’t help the headache that was already brewing behind his eyes. Arthur barely paused before heading straight towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Merlin asked softly. “The way is blocked.”

“I’m moving the blockage,” Arthur said, his voice quiet but hard.

“At least have a drink first,” Merlin suggested. He knew that he would be unable to shift any rubble until he had recharged somewhat. 

Arthur sighed. “Leave me alone, Merlin.”

It hurt. He was already hurting. Most of all it pained him to see Arthur hurting. Maybe some time apart would be beneficial. Merlin didn’t respond, letting Arthur slump away. Merlin swallowed, becoming aware once more of the dryness of his throat. He felt weak, knowing that he had to refuel before anything else. 

Some of the cupboard doors hung open, a reminder of the urgency at which this place was deserted. It was hard to picture the kitchen a hive of activity only a few days prior. Cooks would have bustled about, large pots of miscellaneous food products bubbling away on the hob. All that was gone. It looked as if no one had been here for months. A creepy abandoned building in a post-apocalyptic world. Merlin supposed that wasn't entirely inaccurate. 

It was then it really hit home.

The world as he knew it had ended. There was no coming back from this. Living as scavengers, forever running and hiding from the terrors that were always just around the corner. There was no one left to care if he just gave up now. The warm, smiling face of his mother floated through his head, a heavy guilt settling in his stomach. He didn't know what had become of his mum. His only remaining family. His eyes prickled but tears refused to form, his body not willing to give up the small amount of water he was running on. He bit his lip and clenched his firsts, letting the sharp sting of his fingernails ground him. 

The cupboards were full of potentially useful bits and bobs. If he could get some help, Merlin could haul the bags over to the small kitchen back in the neurorehab unit. It wasn't much, designed to let patients relearn simple tasks but between them they might be able to make some substantial meals.   
At the thought, Merlin's stomach growled. Perhaps he should attempt something now. 

After a little rummaging, Merlin had discovered several large bags of dried pasta and rice, a sack of potatoes and a variety of miscellaneous canned goods. He let out a breathy sigh of relief. They'd still have to ration, but assuming that he and Arthur would manage to reunite with the others it might make life a little bit easier. After a few experimental prods Merlin discovered the microwave was still functional. The generator was still running then, but how long it would last he couldn't say. In that moment, he didn't care. They were out of the never ending twisting tunnels below. They'd found food and on top of that, there was the potential for a hot meal! 

The potatoes had begun sprouting but were still edible. He should probably start with them to avoid wasting good food. He picked up two reasonably sized potatoes and set about washing them and disposing the sprouts. Baked potato it was. As the microwave hummed to itself Merlin became aware of a faint shuffling sound accompanied by the occasional grunt. He spun around, face to face with the empty kitchen. 

Panic flared in his chest. Arthur. He'd let him go alone. What if the undead had managed to get through the pile of rubble or had climbed in through a window? Fuck! He shouldn't have left Arthur, no matter how much he pouted. If something had happened....

He wasn't going to think about it. His grip tightened on the knife he'd been using to prepare the food. He took off as quickly and quietly as he could towards the source of the noise. As he approached the shuffling stopped, grunting replaced by the sounds of heavy breathing.

"Arthur?" Merlin called as he rounded the corner.

It was a sorry sight. Arthur knelt on the floor, hands gripping his own hair roughly as if ready to pull it out. He was grubby, though Merlin supposed he looked no better. Arthur's face was obscured but he could imagine the defeated look haunting his eyes. Merlin's heart broke. 

"What do you want?" The words came out barely more than a croak. 

Merlin licked his lips, realising just how chapped they were. "I heard you struggling. I thought..." He trailed off, knowing that Arthur knew what he thought.

"You thought I couldn't handle myself," Arthur said. "What could a scrawny thing like you do anyway?"

Merlin shrugged. The words stung but he tried not to let it show. The sooner they were out of here the better. His fingers tingled and he knew that with one well placed push, he could make a hole in the blockage. Not in front of Arthur though. Instead he turned, leaving the other man to feel sorry for himself. 

The microwave had pinged. Merlin located a fork and manhandled one of the piping potatoes onto a plate. He grabbed a bottle of water too, warm by now but at least it was safe to drink. Carefully arranging his features into what he hoped was a neutral expression he returned to Arthur once more. He had moved. Still sat on the floor, but now he leaned against the wall looking deflated. Merlin didn't speak as he placed the potato and water in front of Arthur. Arthur eyed the bowl suspiciously before glancing at Merlin.

"What's this?" 

"You need to eat," Merlin responded. "Then we can move this rubble and you'll be rid of me."

Arthur's face hardened. He didn't reply though he did drag the plate closer to him, tentatively taking a bite of the steaming potato. Merlin didn't hang around for a thanks- he doubted he'd get one and he didn't particularly fancy listening to any more criticism. Instead he returned to the kitchen where he began to pick at his own food. 

He'd lost track of time in the tunnels below. No idea how long it had been since he had last eaten. He should have been starving but a dead weight had settled in Merlin's stomach making it difficult to swallow. A bitter taste coated his mouth. It took all of his effort not to spit the half chewed potato out. Water was easier but it sloshed around his stomach making him feel sick. He didn't know what to make of the situation. He hoped that Arthur would pass out soon enough so that Merlin could make use of the tingling in his fingers and loosen some of the boulders. 

It was his fault anyway. He collapsed the ceiling. Merlin had got them trapped, separated from the group. Merlin had freaked out, pushed Arthur away. His eyes prickled. Merlin wasn't going to allow himself to cry; Arthur had never liked him anyway. The rescue when Merlin distracted the undead mob had simply been some kind of hero complex. Anything else was a result of going stir crazy while stuck in a place like this. Everyone became a little desperate at one point or another. 

The potato made him choke as he shoveled it in past a sob threatening to erupt. He would not cry. It was stupid. There were bigger things to worry about, not some pompous blond haired prat. He should focus on what was happening outside of these walls. The zombies still clamouring over each other to get inside. He should focus on what had become of his friends. His mother. He didn't know whether it was a good idea to focus on the persistent tingling of his fingers. He didn't want to accidently unleash the power bubbling under the surface. 

Perhaps his body was trying to tell him something. 

Quietly he set down his empty plate. Arthur had yet to move into the kitchen. Left to his own devices, Merlin thought that Arthur would stay there for as long as possible, denying Merlin's existence or whatever he was doing. He sighed to himself. It shouldn't be this difficult. Of course it was. Emotions were running high. It was stressful times. Merlin thought even the tiniest disappointment might send him spiraling into a stress induced depression at that point. 

Curling his hands into tight fists, Merlin let his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. He wasn't going to let that happen. He had to get back to the others and whether Arthur was going to sit and sulk was Arthur's choice. The words of the old man echoed in Merlin's ears. A memory that seemed a lifetime away but was only a few days at most. Flashes of Nimueh's unnaturally blue eyes crossed Merlin's mind. He still couldn't decide if she was friend or foe. She unsettled him. Something told him that one of the hospital staff might know of her. Perhaps the old psychologist Gaius would have some answers. 

Despite the urgency to get back to the group, Merlin decided it was probably best to give Arthur a wide berth for a while. Any more arguments or stress and who knew what the electricity pulsating in Merlin's fingertips would do. Something told him it definitely wouldn't be pretty. Instead, Merlin decided to rifle through the cupboards, taking inventory and piling up anything that might be of use. Perhaps one day they could strive to build a safe connection between the kitchen and their base. It would be perfect, though it would take a lot of time and materials to secure the main reception area. Besides, maybe this would all blow over by then. He had to think positive. If he didn't, Merlin knew he would dissolve into a heaving pile of snot and tears on the floor. 

He made a pyramid of tins; baked beans dominated with a scattering of chickpeas, tomatoes and mushy peas as well as miscellaneous other tinned vegetables. It took a lot of effort to not shout out with glee when he located a handful of tins of fruit cocktail. They could be saved for a special occasion, he thought. Not that there would ever be much to celebrate in the crapsack world it was becoming. He grazed his fingernails against his palm again, breathing in heavily through his nose and blowing out through his mouth. There was a collection of kitchen utensils as well. They'd be useful for cooking if they had the opportunity but also could double as weapons if needed. Merlin smiled humourlessly to himself as he recalled his frying pan. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He buried his head in the cupboard in search for anything else useful. A slight cough behind him told Merlin he was no longer alone. He pulled himself from the cupboard as quickly as possible without banging his head. His heart pounded. He doubted it was a zombie, he didn't think they would announce themselves by clearing their throats. A small part of him thought it would prefer a zombie rather than Arthur.

Arthur stood a foot or so away from Merlin, head cast downwards and a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. He gestured helplessly, waving the now empty plate in Merlin's direction. Merlin gave a half smile and took the plate, placing it gently on the side. He knew it was Arthur's way of thanking him. Perhaps even a kind of apology, but Merlin knew it would take more than a wordless sorry to rid any tension between them. 

"Rest up," Merlin instructed. "We'll tackle the rubble when we have a bit of strength."  
Arthur gave a barely discernible nod, his eyes flickering away from Merlin's face. Merlin suppressed his sigh. It was the best he was going to get. The blond slunk away into the corner, sliding down the wall until his arms encircled his knees in a hug. Merlin made sure to keep his distance, attempting to appear busy with the food and pots and pans until he heard Arthur's rhythmic breathing deepen. 

A quick look determined that Arthur was asleep. He was propped against the wall, his body hanging limply to one side; mouth slack. There was a slight furrow on his forehead, the frustrations from the day seeping into his dreams. Merlin took his chance, tip toeing out into the blocked corridor. He surveyed the pile of rubble, giving an experimental push with his hands. It was packed tightly. He marvelled that he had done this. In his panic stricken state he had unwittingly created an impenetrable barrier. If he could practise, maybe he could craft a permanent base. If he ever built up the courage to reveal his new found powers. He knew if he said anything, he'd be laughed out of the hospital. They'd definitely think he'd lost it. 

The charge under his skin intensified, quickening and growing in strength as it surged towards his finger tips. Merlin clenched his teeth, holding it back, surprised at the effort it took not to release the power. He needed it to be controlled. He couldn't risk anything too spectacular lest the whole building cave in on their heads. It felt like pins and needles, though not as unpleasant. Slight jolts of pain stabbed at his nerve endings, urging him to let go.

Merlin inhaled, filling his lungs to capacity and pinched the bridge of his nose. Slowly, he let the breath escape. It was now or never. He reached out gingerly, arms held at shoulder height and fingers spread wide. Then he pushed. He could feel it travel down his arms, out through his fingertips, working its way between the miniscule gaps in the rubble. It was like an extra limb, reaching out. He could almost feel the rough texture of the cool stone as it began to shift before him. Merlin barely had to think, the rubble before him shifted, loosening just enough. The wall did not come crashing down, but Merlin could see the odd bit of debris wobble as the power wove its way around. Carefully, he lowered his hand, willing the power to stop flowing. The tingle had weakened into a hardly noticeable buzz. Merlin took that as a sign that his work was done. They should be able to manually clear a path without too much trouble. He was tempted to clear one by himself, but Merlin knew that Arthur would question him. Merlin's eyes stung and his limbs ached. It was time for sleep. 

Merlin slumped back into the kitchen. Arthur was still sleeping, propped in the same uncomfortable position as when Merlin left. For a moment, Merlin wondered what would happen if he curled himself around Arthur and fell to sleep there. Nothing good, he decided and dragged himself to a patch of floor a decent distance away. 

**

"Merlin!" A voice wafted through the fog of his sleep addled mind. Someone was grasping his shoulders, shaking firmly. 

Merlin groaned, rolling over the best he could and swatted in the general direction of the annoying voice. "Five more minutes," he mumbled. 

The hands left his shoulders for a split second before returning underneath his armpits. Merlin squirmed as the strong hands hefted him up into a sitting position. "Wake up you lazy fool!"

Another groan escaped Merlin's lips and he allowed his eyes to flutter open. He was face to face with Arthur, whose expression was a confusing mix between excited and disgruntled. The bitter smell of grime and sweat wafted into Merlin's nostrils. He let his head flop forward, softly landing on Arthur's shoulder, taking in the smell. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but in that moment Merlin didn't care. It was Arthur. 

Arthur let out an exaggerated sigh, pushing Merlin's head back up. "Come on." He didn't sound amused. 

"Tired," Merlin mumbled, struggling to wake up. He rubbed his eyes and Arthur finally let go of his arms.

"Here," Arthur shoved a water bottle and a bowl of dry cornflakes into Merlin's hands. "Drink, eat. We're moving on."

Merlin nodded, taking a gulp of the water. 

"Milk?" He asked, surveying the meager portion of cornflakes he'd been given.

"Gone off," Arthur answered shortly. "Make do."

Merlin sighed. He did suppose asking for milk was a little too much given the current situation. They were lucky they had clean water. 

"Thank you," Merlin said, picking at the cereal. Arthur gave a curt nod before vanishing out of the kitchen. Probably to work on the wall separating them from the others. Merlin's suspicions were confirmed a few mouthfuls later when an excited 'whoop' sounded from down the corridor. 

When Merlin joined Arthur, a small hole had formed in the rubble. It wasn't yet big enough for even skinny Merlin to fit through, but it wouldn't be long before a clear passage was formed. He took in Arthur's beaming face, slick with sweat and dust.

"I told you, you just needed to recharge," Merlin said, hoping that some of the previous day's tension had slipped away. 

"Shut up," Arthur replied and though he kept his face straight there was a glint in his eye that told Merlin that Arthur wasn't altogether angry anymore. Their relationship would probably take time to build up again, but Merlin would take that anytime over losing their friendship completely. 

"Before we go much further, can we talk?" Merlin asked. 

Arthur paused in his work but remained silent. Merlin decided to take it as a yes.

"I'm sorry that I upset you. It's just..." He sighed, trying to figure out the right words. "I do like you but-"

"Merlin, save it." Arthur said. "It happened. It's over. We were both scared and hungry and tired and that's it. Let's forget about it and move on."

Merlin swallowed, trying to make sense of Arthur's words. "Yeah okay," he said, throat suddenly dry. "Friends?"

Arthur nodded "If you insist," he said, a slight smirk on the corner of his mouth. Merlin smiled back, but he wasn't sure how genuine it was. Arthur wanted to forget. To move on. The kiss between he and Merlin was a mistake. It would be just like it never happened. 

"Come on," Merlin said "let's get back to work."


	10. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the actual worst! I hate that this has taken so long to write. Real life has been getting in the way majorly recently. Time that I usually spend writing has been taken up by work and all I can do is apologise! I hope this chapter is up to scratch! It's probably a bit of an info dump but I think some of you might find some interesting bits of information throughout. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Looking forward to any feedback you'd like to give. I'd like to point out that there's quite a bit of ableist language regarding mental health towards the end of this chapter so if that's upsetting for anyone please be aware.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me!

It took a long time, but eventually they managed it. A hole, big enough to scramble through grew as the pair worked away steadily. Arthur grunted and struggled to remove rubble as Merlin sneakily stuck to stubborn areas, letting the charge in his fingers reach out and loosen the rocks. 

“I think we've done it!” Merlin exclaimed, surveying the hole. Arthur let out a relieved laugh, turning to beam at Merlin. It appeared previous tensions had dissolved for now. It was a small victory. But it wasn't quite time to celebrate. They still had to get back in one piece. It would be a bitter irony that they managed to escape, only to get torn apart at the final hurdle. 

“I guess we should make a move then,” Arthur suggested.

“I guess we should.”

Merlin was unsure how to feel. He was glad to escape the solitude of the kitchen. He was excited to be reunited with the others and to share any information they had gathered. At the same.time, he was a little disappointed. Arthur gave Merlin a boost up to the gap in the rouble, his fingers grazing the bare skin of Merlin’s ankle. He was going to miss this. The warm, safe feeling that he somehow associated with being with Arthur. He’d miss the banter and the strange friendship they had formed. Of course they would still be friends. But with the others present, it wouldn't be the same. Merlin felt like a spoiled child, unwilling to share his favourite toy. He chided himself as he landed at the other side. Since when had he started thinking about people as possessions. Arthur, especially. 

There was a series of grunts as Arthur wriggled his way through the hole. His shoulders were broader than Merlin’s giving Arthur a little less room to manoeuvre. Merlin tugged at Arthur’s arms a little to help. Arthur winced a little as he landed. His bare shoulders were covered in grazes from the jagged rocks. Arthur must have seen Merlin watching for he looked down at the scrapes but merely shrugged in response. 

The journey back to the neuro rehab unit was one of few words. The air crackled with excitement mixed with a slight air of unease. Merlin didn't voice his concerns that the others may have moved on or...worse. He somehow knew that Arthur was thinking the same. His jaw was clenched and shoulders square. Arthur was a man on a mission and Merlin had to scrabble to keep up. 

They paused outside the first door into the ward, exchanging nervous glances. The view from the small window gave nothing away. No signs of movement but also no signs of a struggle left behind. A gentle nudge of the door revealed it to be locked. Arthur thumbed the buzzer on the wall. Moments passed with no response. 

“Where are they?” Arthur hissed, punching the button again.

Merlin's stomach flipped. “Maybe the power’s gone?” 

Arthur nodded, raising his fist to start pounding at the door just as a pale face popped up at the window of the second door. 

It took a second for Gwaine’s expression of disgruntled confusion to be replaced with surprise. Thought they could not hear him, Merlin saw him mouth the words “Oh my god!” As he scuttled into the nurse's office to release the airlock. There was a soft click as the door unlocked. The pair wasted no time in opening the door and entering the airlock. Another click and the second door was swinging open. 

Then Gwaine was in front of them, pulling Merlin and Arthur into a three way hug. “We thought we'd lost you two,” he gushed. 

“We thought we were lost too,” Merlin muttered into Gwaine’s cheek.

Gwaine finally released the pair  
“Shit man, you two look like death. Ah,maybe the wrong choice of words. You look like shit.”

“Nice to see you too, Gwaine,” Arthur said. 

Somewhere down the corridor one of the doors swung open. “Gwaine, what is all the racke-” Gwen poked her head out of the door, trailing off as she clapped eyes on Merlin and Arthur, still dazed from the monster hug. A high pitched squeal emitted from Gwen’s mouth before she called over her shoulder “they’re back! Arthur and Merlin are back!”

She ran over, throwing her arms around Merlin's waist. “Thank god you're OK!” She said, head buried in Merlin's chest. 

“Are you going to be making a habit of squealing whenever you greet me?” Merlin asked, smoothing a down a stray curl. 

When Gwen looked up she was glaring. “I've been beside myself with worry Merlin Emrys! Again!” Then turned to Arthur and slapping him on the shoulder she said “you better have looked after him!”

Arthur looked taken aback, his mouth opening and closing a few times but no sound came out. 

“He did,” Merlin supplied. “We looked after each other.”

Merlin pretended to ignore the pinkish tint to Arthur’s cheeks or the way he softly cleared his throat before turning away and saying: “Where's everyone else? I'm sure we all have plenty to catch up on.”

Gwaine volunteered to round everyone up as Gwen lead Merlin and Arthur into the cramped nurse’s office. As everyone filed in, it was a relief to see everyone was still accounted for and other than looking a bit tired, they all looked okay. After much back patting and several hugs everyone settled down, perching wherever they could find the space within the cluttered office.

“This is all very heartwarming, but has anyone checked if they're bit?” Morgana was sat on top a desk, back to the wall and knees drawn into her chest. Her icy stare was fixed on Arthur. A sense of dread overtook Merlin as his fingers twitched involuntarily towards his scarf. He had to remind himself that the wound now had the appearance of an old scar. The scarf now mainly for vanity reasons and warding away any questions that would be difficult to answer. Besides, old scar or not, he was sure it still had the appearance of a human bite mark. 

“We’re fine. A few close scrapes, but nothing to worry about,” Arthur said, barely glancing towards his sister. 

“And everyone just takes his word for it?” Morgana snapped.

“You want us to strip off, is that it?” Arthur asked. “Morgana I'm sorry about what happened but-”

“Save it. I believe you. I'm glad you're not dead, brother,” Morgana said though her voice was cold.

“Thanks. I think.”

“Now that's out of the way, are you going to fill us in on what happened?” Gaius asked. 

Merlin stayed quiet as Arthur explained what they had done the past few days. 

“There's a winding labyrinthine cave system under the hospital, filled with random rooms and all sorts. We met a doctor down there. Nimueh Waters I think.”

Merlin had been watching Gaius's eyebrow creep upwards during Arthur’s explanation but by this point he was positively slack jawed. 

“You know her?” Merlin interrupted.

Gaius nodded slowly. “I knew Dr Waters, but as far as I know she’s been missing for years.” 

“She’s down there conducting experiments on the undead. She said she's trying to find a cure,” Merlin explained earning a few whispered from the others. 

“She said she knew my mother,” Arthur said quietly, his head down. 

“I believe she did,” Gaius said. “I believe Dr Waters had a contract with your father at one point.”

Arthur nodded. “She said she'd worked with him. I don't think they got along.”

Gaius nodded in agreement. Merlin felt like the old psychologist was holding something back. 

“Nimueh worked within the hospital before Uther contacted her about a personal project. She conducted much of her research here. Sometimes I would provide patients for clinical trials of psychiatric medication,” Gaius explained, his tone serious. Still Merlin felt there was more to the situation but decided it unwise to push for more information with everyone present. 

“Anyways,” Merlin continued. “Nimueh was halfway through doing an MRI scan on a walker. When it came out of the machine it went straight for us. Didn't so much as look in her direction.”

“That is interesting,” Gaius remarked.

“You think she’s developed some kind of protection against them?” Leon spoke up.

Merlin shrugged. “Don't you think if she has she’s managed to do it awfully quickly? There's something not right about her.” Arthur nodded in agreement and Merlin was glad he wasn't the only one that had sensed it.

“Dr Waters has always been a little… unconventional,” Gaius said. 

“Anyone just calmly doing brain scans on a bunch of walkers is not just unconventional! They're bloody insane!” Gwaine exclaimed to muttered agreement from a few others. 

Merlin nodded. “There's certainly something off about her.”

There was quiet for a while, the news of a crazy doctor with an underground lair sinking in. There was the rustling of clothes every so often. The new information had obviously unsettled most of the group. 

“We'll deal with Dr Waters if and when the time comes,” Gaius said. “I need to get my thoughts in order.”

The old man heaved himself out of his seat and excused himself from the meeting. There was definitely more to this than met the eye and Merlin was sure Gaius knew a lot more than what he was letting on. 

“Do you think he's OK?” Merlin asked.

“It must be a lot to take in. The return of someone you thought had gone years ago,” Gwen said gently. 

“Anything kicked off here?” Arthur asked.

“Ah! Yes,” Leon answered, his eyes wide with excitement. “We've heard from another group of survivors.”

Merlin’s heart leapt at the words. It wasn't all doom and gloom after all. 

“What? How? Who?” Arthur asked. “Are we joining them?”

“I don't think it’s safe to travel to them at the moment,” Leon said. “There's an old radio in the activity room. We managed to pick up their broadcast.”

“So we've not actually established contact?” Arthur asked, shoulders slumping. 

Leon shook his head. “But that's not all-”

“What?”

“I don't want to get your hopes up,” Leon said, fidgeting with a paperclip he'd picked from the desk. 

Morgana sighed as she slid from her seat on the desk. “The broadcast is by our Father.”

There was no excitement in her tone and her face was a scowl. Arthur’s face on the other hand lit up. He turned to Merlin. “I told you he was alright!”

Morgana’s expression hardened, if that was possible. 

“We must remember, the broadcast is a recording. Anything could have happened since he recorded it,” Leon explained. 

“Yes, but it’s a start!” Arthur was excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “What did he say?”

“He says he's working on a cure,” Morgana stated.

“That's a good thing,” Arthur said, obviously confused about Morgana’s lack of excitement. She shrugged. 

“Uther has also put out a warning,” Mordred spoke up causing Merlin to jump. He’d forgotten the boy was there, silently observing. Mordred’s pale eyes lingered on Merlin a moment too long causing his stomach to flip. “He spoke about another threat. People attacked by the undead but lived to tell the tale. He claims they are equally as dangerous if not more as the zombies. Immunes he called them.”

Merlin’s stomach plummeted. Before he could process what this meant Morgana spoke again, glaring hard at Arthur.

“That means Morgause might have survived. Others have! But you had to run in and play the hero!” She snapped.

Arthur’s mouth hung open for a second before snapping closed suddenly. “Morgana, no one regrets what happened more that I do. But if father says these people are dangerous then perhaps it was for the best.”

A loud slap rang throughout the room. Arthur cradled his cheek where Morgana’s hand had hit.

“Don’t you dare Arthur Pendragon!” She hissed before yanking the door open and storming out.

An uneasy silence came over the room. Merlin’s head spun. There was so much to take in and he couldn't even begin to process any of it. If what Arthur’s father said was true, there were others like him. There were other people that had been bitten. For some reason Uther believed them dangerous. Perhaps the other immunes had developed powers much like Merlin’s. He wonders what was happening on the outside. But the one thought that kept resurfacing in Merlin’s mind was that Arthur had instantly believed it. Arthur unquestioningly believed that any bite survivors were dangerous. If Merlin were to be discovered, particularly now how would the group react? An image of Arthur’s fear filled eyes flashed through Merlin’s mind. His chest hurt. 

“I think I need some time alone,” Merlin muttered before excusing himself from the room. 

**  
He had been sharing a room with the other boys from the university; Arthur, Gwaine and Mordred. Merlin however stopped short of their shared room and turned left, into a private bay. As far as he knew, the only other occupied private room had been claimed by Gaius. 

Merlin let the door swing shut behind him and sunk down onto the single bed. It still looked freshly made; crisp white sheets tucked tightly at the corners of the mattress. It had not been touched since before the beginning of the end of the world. He was unsure at what point Merlin had decided it was the end of the world. It was one thing when zombies were casually tucking into people, but now people were turning on each other. However things ended, it was not going to be well. 

Merlin kicked off his shoes, letting them clatter against the opposite wall. He wiggled his toes, savouring the feeling of freedom. Then he leaned his back against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest. He didn't know what to do. Part of him wanted to come clean. He’d leave the room and confess everything. The bite, his sudden magic ability, perhaps even the meeting with the strange old man. He could only imagine two outcomes. Either they'd all laugh at him. They’d tell him the stress was getting to him and that he was being silly. Or they'd panic. They'd throw him out and exile him from the group. Or worse. An image of himself being burned alive swam across his mind. No one would be that brutal, surely? Fear can do terrible things to a person. 

**  
Merlin woke with a start. He was aware of a soft pressure at the bottom of his bed. It was dark out. He could make out the shape of a person sat by his feet. Merlin scrambled into a sitting position, pulling the blanket with him. 

“It’s me. We need to talk,” Mordred spoke. The hammering in Merlin’s chest instantly lessened. 

“What?” Merlin whispered, drawing his legs up to make room for his guest. 

“There was something else about Uther’s broadcast. I didn't want to say before in case you panicked.”

“If you didn't notice, I kind of did,” Merlin said, though not unkindly. 

Mordred’s shadow nodded. “I don't think anyone else did. They just think you’re stressed. We all are.”

Merlin nodded back, unsure if Mordred could see him. Without thinking, Merlin extended his hand, willing a small ball of light into existence. It was about the size and intensity of a small candle but it provided enough light to see each other without attracting attention from outside. If Mordred was surprised, he didn't show it. 

“Uther claimed that the immunes are incredibly dangerous and aggressive,” Mordred explained.

“I heard that part,”

“And that once bitten they become ‘ delusional and unhinged’, his words not mine,” Mordred carried on. 

Merlin took a deep breath. He didn't know what exactly Uther meant by that. He didn't think he’d personally displayed behaviour that could be described at either delusional or unhinged. Had he? The last thing he needed was the world thinking he was insane on top of everything else. The thought crossed his mind, not for the first time that perhaps he was. 

“That’s not all.”

“How can it get worse?” Merlin asked, his mind whirring again. 

“Uther believes that the immunes are the key to the cure. He's put a bounty on the head of any immune. Bring them to him and he will provide food, shelter and protection. In exchange he gets to subject them to his little experiments.”

Merlin didn't know how to react. The old man had mentioned something about the key to the cure residing inside Merlin. But whatever Uther was planning on doing to any immunes did not sound pleasant. From the tone of Mordred's voice, Merlin doubted the testing would be humane at all. He felt sick. Of course he wanted to help, but he couldn't help but think that Uther regarded immunes as lesser lifeforms. He hasn't asked for volunteers. Instead, he had placed a bounty on their heads. 

“Arthur will want to go,” Merlin said after a brief silence. 

“The others too, I think. Uther is offering shelter and food to anyone willing to work. It sounds too good to be true.”

Merlin grimaced “It probably is.”

“It'll look weird if we don't go,” Mordred said.

“You go with them. You've got nothing to hide. I'll figure something else out,” Merlin said softly.

“No matter what anyone says, I know you're not dangerous. I'm not going to leave you alone.”

Merlin smiled. “You're a good kid, Mordred.”

“I better get back, before someone wakes up and worries about me,” Mordred said. He slunk out of the room, almost silently and disappeared into the corridor. 

The ball of light dimmed until Merlin was in darkness once more. The thought of finding Uther filled Merlin with dread. He knew Arthur wouldn't rest until they found his father now they had heard from him. Despite Morgana’s steely attitude, Merlin suspected she would be desperate to return too. The others, as Mordred said, would likely follow. If Uther was able to offer all he claimed then there was nothing to lose. Apart from Merlin’s life if his true nature was to be revealed. He wondered what if he just hadn't begun displaying aggressive behaviour yet. Perhaps it was all to come. He knew Mordred was only out to help but Merlin wished he’d kept his mouth shut. The one time Mordred spoke up and Merlin sorely wished he hadn't. 

Merlin stewed with his thoughts for what felt like hours. Eventually, the sun began to rise and rays filtered through the thin curtains. Merlin wasn't sure he was able to face anyone yet, but he knew that his absence would cause more concern than it was worth. 

A series of small bangs came from the room next door. The small bay was occupied by Gaius. The old man was probably up and pottering about. Merlin hoped he was okay and made a note to check in with him later. That's when the idea struck him. Gaius was a psychologist! Surely he would be able to tell Merlin if he was losing his mind! 

**

“Merlin my boy! Are you alright?” Gaius opened the door to his private room. 

“Can I come in?” Merlin asked, feeling nauseous. He still didn't know how to approach the topic, deciding instead to let the conversation flow. 

Gaius opened the door, gesturing towards the high-backed chair next to the bed. 

“I, uh, wanted to see how you are? I mean after yesterday?” Merlin asked, rubbing the back of his neck. It was true, he did want to make sure Gaius was alright. Merlin still couldn't help but feel a little guilty about his ulterior motive though. 

“I am fine. Nimueh’s reappearance was a shock to the system I must admit, but otherwise I am fine,” the psychologist surveyed Merlin, his expression becoming quizzical. “I think I should be the one asking if you’re alright.”

Merlin was quiet for a moment. This had come around a lot quicker than he had expected. “I think I need your help,” Merlin admitted.

“What do you mean?” Gaius asked, eyebrow quirked. 

“I think maybe that I'm going mad,” Merlin gushed. “Maybe the pressure is getting to me or maybe… I don't know.”

Gaius settled himself on the edge of his bed facing Merlin. “And what makes you think that?” 

The question stumped Merlin. He had underprepared for this. 

Merlin swallowed loudly. “Uhm, the others are saying that there’s been word of people surviving the bite.”

Gaius nodded, watching Merlin carefully. “According to Arthur’s father, yes.”

“They said those people lose their minds. That they're delusional and dangerous.” Merlin could feel himself speeding up, unable to stop his panic from seeping out. 

“Merlin, what are you trying to tell me?”

“That's why I think I'm going crazy Gaius,” Merlin tugged at his scarf, loosening the knot. 

“Merlin…”

The scarf fell away, bringing his scar into view. Gaius peered at it.

“But this is an old scar. It healed months or even years ago,” Gaius stated. 

“Would you think me crazy if I told you that I have magic?” Merlin asked. 

Confusion fluttered across Gauis’s face. Merlin could see Gaius thinking carefully about his answer. “What makes you think you have magic Merlin?”

“I can do things with my mind. Move objects mostly. Or conjure fire or light. Heal wounds,” He gestured towards his scar. 

If Merlin didn't know better he would say he’d seen a flicker of a smile pass the old man’s lips before he spoke “A long time ago I might have dismissed those types of claims as delusions or psychosis.” 

“What made you change your mind?” Merlin asked.

“Apart from the recent rising of the undead you mean?”

Merlin snorted. “Yeah, apart from that.”

“I've seen it. A long time ago.”

Merlin’s eyes widened and he felt himself lean forward in his chair. “Can you tell me more?”

Gaius sighed. “Before her disappearance, Nimueh began exhibiting very strange behaviour. She began claiming great power. Uther thought she had developed a mental illness. I was inclined to agree until the day I witnessed her conjure a fireball from thin air.”

Merlin felt his breath hitch. Nimueh was like him. But if the power was related the zombie bite, why had she displayed magic almost two decades ago? He recalled the uneasy feeling that Nimueh gave him. She was dangerous. He knew it. Perhaps Uther's words were true. Perhaps he was speaking from experience. Merlin didn't speak for a while, trying to process the information.

“Do you think you can show me?” Gaius asked.

Merlin held out his palm, conjuring the same small ball of light. It was becomming second nature now. He barely had to think about it. He heard Gaius gasp.

“Have you always been able to do this?” 

“No. That’s why I think I might be losing it,” Merlin said. 

“I don't quite think that there’s anything wrong with you Merlin. I just think you're different.”

“That’s a polite way of telling me I'm bonkers!” Merlin said, though there was humour in his voice. 

“That may be so,” Gaius joked. “I think you better tell me what happened. Then we can decide how we’re going to deal with you.”

So Merlin did. He told about the girl that had attacked him, about passing out and waking up hours later. He told about what happened in the shower and how his body had healed itself. He told about instinctively saving Arthur and discovering that he could control his powers. He spoke about the strange old man in the cavern and his odd words of wisdom.

“So basically, taking everything into account I’d conclude that I am royally screwed,” Merlin finished.


	11. The Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone that has stuck with this fic despite me being useless at updating. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter; it was very fun to write. Like usual, I'd love some constructive criticism. If you spot any mistakes let me know! 
> 
> This chapter might be a little shorter than some but it felt like the right place to leave off. I hope you all enjoy!

Emotions were running high. The party was wound up. Fed up of staying put like sitting ducks. Particularly now they were aware of a safe heaven some miles up the road. Everyone moved with a stiffness in their shoulders, on edge and ready to strike. It was tense.

Days had passed. A week. Two, perhaps? Merlin had given up counting. Arthur had found a scrap of paper, hanging it next to his bed as a makeshift calendar. He marked off the days with precision. Merlin didn't care. He felt like he was drowning. Every time he thought about leaving the hospital, a weight pressed against his chest, constricting his lungs. At the same time the optimism and excitement Arthur exuded made Merlin smile. There was a wide-eyed innocence there, a purity that Merlin struggled to see in the world recently. Arthur was like a puppy, almost oblivious to the troubles of others. 

Only now, Arthur’s patience was wearing thin. He was tired of being told no. That it wasn't safe outside. They would have to plan if they wanted to move on. Which almost everyone did. 

Merlin had moved back into his shared room, his bed facing Arthur’s. Gwaine and Mordred also occupied the room, reluctant to split after all they had endured together. Merlin sat in his bed, knees drawn to his chest, absently staring at the bed ahead. It was dawn, a thin light filtering through the curtains. Gwaine’s bed had the modesty curtain drawn around it, soft snores emitting behind it. Mordred’s bed was unseen, tucked away in a corner of the L-shaped room. Merlin assumed he was asleep. Arthur however was sat in his chair, hunched over a pile of notes spread across his portable table. He clutched a pen tightly though he didn't write. His other hand was tugging at his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. Merlin wondered whether it would be weird if he went over and smoothed it for him. To take the pen from Arthur’s firm grasp and lie it down. To usher Arthur into bed and sooth him until he fell to sleep. Probably. 

Their relationship since returning had been strained. Arthur likely assumed it was due to what had happened in the tunnels. In part it was. They hadn't discussed it further. But Merlin was more worried about what the future held. Arthur’s excitement about reuniting with his father was heartwarming, but the possibility filled Merlin with dread. It terrified Merlin that the day was drawing closer where he’d have to decide if he would leave or follow the others. And it petrified him that deep down he already knew the answer. He would follow Arthur in a heartbeat. Not only because of what the strange old man had said, but because of the constant pull Merlin felt towards him, like an invisible elastic band tethering the pair together. 

Arthur shifted position abruptly, huffing and scrunching up one of the sheets of paper. The pen clattered to the table as he took his head in his hands and let out another frustrated sigh. 

“You need sleep,” Merlin whispered, keeping his voice low as to not wake their roommates. 

Arthur did not reply, but Merlin saw his grip tighten, pulling his hair taught. Merlin crawled to the end of his own bed, watching Arthur carefully. 

“I can't do it,” Arthur said. Merlin was unsure if Arthur had meant that he couldn't make sense of his notes or if he couldn't sleep. He didn't ask. He swung his legs down so he was perched on the end of the bed. 

“How can I help?” Merlin asked.

Slowly, Arthur lifted his head. From this distance, the bags under Arthur’s eyes were visible. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot red from lack of sleep and tears of frustration he thought no one else had seen. For a long time Arthur was quiet. Merlin began to think he wouldn't get a response. Arthur shuffled through his papers, producing a map scribbled in Biro. 

It detailed the hospital, Merlin realised. The room they were in, the surrounding corridors. There was a rough sketch of the tunnels below, but it was hastily drawn and lacking detail. 

“No matter what we do, it's a death sentence,” Arthur said finally. “There's no way out.”

Merlin swallowed. “But we're alright here. For now. We have food, shelter, water. Even some power.” 

He knew it was useless to try to persuade Arthur, however. The moment he’d heard his father mentioned, Arthur’s mind had been made. 

“For now.” Arthur repeated. His voice was hoarse. “But in case you haven't noticed Merlin, we are surrounded. It’s only a matter of time before one of those undead smashes its way in here. And then we're all dead.”

He had a point. During recent scouting missions there had been reports of a growing number of zombies surrounding the building. Leon had said it was as if they could sense the living hiding behind the walls. 

Arthur pushed his table to one side. He stood and walked the couple of steps until he was in front of Merlin. The faint smell of stale sweat and grime filled Merlin’s nostrils. He didn't care. They all smelled, it was nearly unnoticeable now. But something about the bitter smell of Arthur excited Merlin. He breathed slowly, eyes fluttering closed for a second. When they reopened the pair were nearly nose to nose. There was a smudge of dirt across Arthur’s forehead. Arthur pushed Merlin to the side and sunk down beside him. He brandished the papers at Merlin. Large crosses covered the exits of the hospital. 

“I've thought it through and I keep coming back to one answer,” Arthur said, pointing to a large question mark in a box labeled “kitchen”.

Merlin shook his head. “You're crazy. You want to go back into the unknown? We don't know where it leads or what else is down there.”

Arthur’s body visibly sagged. “I don't know.”

“You're tired.” 

“Yeah.”

“Sleep. We'll look after you've had some rest.” 

Merlin was aware of Arthur watching him. He looked down, studying his fingernails to avoid the scrutinising state. 

“Something's wrong,” Arthur stated. 

Merlin thought about joking that the whole world was wrong but he couldn't form the words. 

“You don't want to leave,” Arthur spoke again.

It was Merlin's turn to shrug. 

“Why?” 

“I'm scared,” the words had slipped out without Merlin really meaning to say them. He cringed a little, for some reason expecting Arthur to laugh and tease him. Instead he felt a hand on his thigh.

“Me too,” Arthur confessed. The words were strained, like it took a lot of effort to say them. It probably did. “But we have to keep going.”

“I suppose we do,” Merlin offered a weak smile without really looking at Arthur. He didn't dare say that a life out their, with Uther Pendragon breathing down his neck, was infinitely more terrifying than staying put. Not when the prospect seemed to attractive to everyone else. 

“That's the spirit,” Arthur said. His hand lifted from Merlin’s thigh, leaving it cold and strange. He was quiet for a moment before rising awkwardly “I really need some sleep.”

“That's what I keep telling you,” Merlin looked up. Arthur was smiling for what felt the first time in days. It was a small one, but that didn't matter. His shoulders weren't quite as tense.

“Good night, Merlin.” 

Merlin glanced towards the daylight filtering through the curtains. Arthur noticed but shook his head.

“Good night, Arthur.”

**

Arthur was still asleep when Merlin woke. He'd neglected to draw his curtain, giving Merlin the perfect view of Arthur’s sleeping form. He slept on his stomach, one arm dangling from the side of the bed, legs at an angle. Arthur’s face was turned away, but Merlin imagined his jaw hanging slackly. 

The other occupants of the room were not present. Gwaine had flung back his curtain, leaving his bed unmade. Mordred’s space was neat, almost as if it was untouched. Merlin’s stomach rumbled. He guessed he had slept through breakfast. There were some sounds of movement out in the corridor, but there were none of the usual muffled voices. 

Gwen was in charge of rationing the food. She meticulously planned their meals based on whatever the scouts brought back. The kitchen had provided a lot of previsions which Gwen had sorted into piles, carefully labeled. Despite the plentiful stock, snacks were not allowed unless deemed absolutely necessary. Over indulging would only lead to a shortage and despite plans to move on, nobody knew how far in advance they needed to plan. 

Merlin ventured into the corridor, deciding if it was worth Gwen’s wrath to sneak some food for himself and Arthur. They had missed breakfast after all. She wouldn't be too mad.   
The shuffling outside of his room turned out to be Morgana. She stood alone, sorting and folding the spare clothing and sheets the scouts had brought back. For the most part, an assortment of different coloured scrubs littered the floor around her. 

“Morning,” Merlin said, having to idea of the actual time.

Morgana remained silent, though by her scowl it was evident that she had heard him. As tensions had risen, Morgana’s annoyance at Arthur seemed to have spread to the rest of the group. She appeared to tolerate Gwen and Gaius still, while showering Mordred with a strange maternal affection. For everyone else, Morgana had seemed to decide they no longer existed. Apart from when she snapped sarcastic remarks. Merlin had decided to try not to take this to heart. From Morgana’s point of view, he was probably guilty by association. He ignored the scowl, instead mustering the most cheerful smile possible. 

“Do you want some help Morgana?” He asked brightly. 

Morgana snapped her head towards Merlin, throwing down the sheet she had been folding. Her pale green eyes stared into Merlin’s very sole. She was paler than usual, her cheeks hollow. Dark circles surrounded her eyes and her lips sore and chapped. 

“Leave me alone, Merlin,” her tone was cold. 

Merlin fumbled for a second. He knew it was the situation they were in. Everyone was tense. It probably wasn’t that personal. He wanted to reach out. 

“I'm just trying to be frien-” he was cut off abruptly.

“Fuck off!”

Merlin’s mouth hung open for a second, before he shut if firmly. He briefly considered trying again before deciding now was not the right time. Instead he slouched his way to the small kitchen.

Gwen was stationed at one of the counters, chopping what was left of the vegetables. There were still some that had not turned to mush, but supply of fresh produce was running slow. She let out a soft sigh as Merlin entered the room.

“We need to use this before it goes bad,” Gwen said, gesturing at the pile. “Hate to say it, but it’s mostly veg for the next few days.” 

“As long as it’s edible, it’s fine,” Merlin said. “Can I have some food?”

Gwen stilled. “You know the rules.”

“Yeah, but I slept through breakfast. So there should be some left.”

The chopping resumed. “Get one portion from there,” she jerked her head towards a cupboard. 

Inside there was a selection of sandwich bags, each filled with a different cereal. Gwen had undoubtedly meticulously measured the portions to ensure they lasted as long as possible. He grabbed one then paused. 

“Arthur hasn't eaten either.”

Gwen signed again but when Merlin looked at her she was smiling fondly. “Take one for him. Just this once.”

“Thanks Gwen, you're a lifesaver.”

“You two need to look after yourselves,” she chided warmly. 

“Yeah, yeah. Where's everyone?”

“Scouting again. I'd have thought they'd have overturned the whole building by now but they still keep bringing things back,” she explained.

Merlin nodded. He wondered why he and Arthur had been left out of the expedition. Not that he minded. Merlin could do with the rest. Arthur too. Though he thought Arthur would probably be furious that they had left without him. Merlin thanked Gwen for the food and went back to his room. He didn't talk to Morgana on his way back. 

Arthur was still asleep, though he had moved position slightly. Merlin smirked at the image of Arthur jerking awake at the sound of his sister’s shout. Arthur’s face was soft when he was asleep. The tension and worry from the previous night no longer evident on his features. The semi permanent crease on Arthur’s forehead was smooth, sleep apparently melting his troubles away. If not for the uneven stubble gracing Arthur’s chin Merlin could almost forgive himself for thinking the world had not ended. Somewhere, in Arthur’s dreams everything was alright. 

A miniature groan came from Arthur’s sleeping form, his arms raising over his head in a stretch. Merlin startled, barely aware that he had been watching Arthur sleep. He turned quickly and made quick strides towards his own bed lest he get caught. Merlin plonked himself down just as Arthur began to sit up. Without much thought, Merlin reached for the second portion of cereal, hurling it across the room at Arthur. 

“Rise and shine!” Merlin called, the bagged cereal bouncing off of Arthur’s forehead and into his lap. Arthur looked disgruntled.

“What the fuck do you think you're--” the annoyed yell trailed off as Arthur realised the missile was actually food. He grunted his appreciation, which Merlin decided was as much thanks as he was going to get.

They ate without speaking, munching their way through the dry cereal. A few weeks ago Merlin would have turned his nose up at the meagre meal, but now he was grateful for pretty much anything. Judging by Arthur’s thoughtful expression as he chewed, he felt much the same way. Merlin imagined Arthur to be accustomed to a full English every morning; prepared and delivered by daddy’s staff of course. That being said, Arthur had been living in student accommodation before their lives had come crashing down. Perhaps a handful of dry cereal was the breakfast of choice in the halls. It was probably one of the more appetising options anyway.

“‘S quiet,” Arthur mumbled. He'd finished his food already. 

Merlin nodded. “They've gone scouting.”

A dark shadow passed over Arthur’s face. His mouth formed a tight “O”.

“You're annoyed,” Merlin pointed out. 

Arthur shrugged, seemingly interpreting Merlin’s statement as a question. “I just like to be consulted.”

“You were asleep. I suppose they thought you needed a day off.”

“Hmmm.”

“Plus, you're an arse when you're tired.”

It was Merlin’s turn to be hit in the face. This time by a flying pillow landing with a soft ‘umph’. 

“My point exactly,” Merlin said. Though Arthur tried to hide it, Merlin could see the beginnings of a small smile. 

“You're a tit,” Arthur replied, instantly ducking under the pillow hurled back at him. 

When Arthur resurfaced his eyes crinkled in amusement. He watched Merlin for a long time, his gaze soft. Merlin watched back, heart fluttering at the sight of Arthur’s unguarded smile. This was what he needed. Both of them. Some time off from the zombie apocalypse to unwind. Some time to play and be the teenagers they were. 

It was Arthur that broke the stare, eyes flickering downwards. His tongue darted to lick his lips before he inhaled deeply. Arthur opened his mouth, but any words were cut off.

The was a series of banging in the corridor outside. It was loud and frantic. Muffled, unintelligible yells. 

Whatever Arthur had been about to say was replaced by a panicked “What the?” as he jumped from the bed.

Merlin followed into the corridor, bracing himself for what he was about to face. Gwen’s head poked from the kitchen at the same time that Gaius appeared from his room. The banging continued, more and more frantic. It was coming from the airlock. 

Gwaine’s face was nearly pressed up against the window as he slapped the door with the palm of his hand. Bodies behind him struggled but Merlin could not see how many or who they were. 

The door suddenly swung open. Several bodies toppled into the corridor, falling on top of each other. There was a scrabble to get up.

“Close the door!” There was a chorus of voices, the pile of bodies untangling themselves and racing to slam the door shut. Merlin could make out Perce, Leon and Mordred amongst the group as well as Gwaine. Though there were many more bodies moving clumsily inside the airlock. Merlin’s thoughts moved slowly, as if they were treading through treacle. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. Only aware of the sheer panic and confusion. 

The slam of the door startled him. Silence. Apart from a series of dull thuds coming from the airlock.

“Is anyone bitten?” Arthur’s voice rang down the corridor. It was only then that Merlin’s mind caught up with the commotion. 

Zombies. More than he could count were flooding into the airlock. The outer door was propped open by something Merlin could not see. It was a miracle none had broken through with Gwaine and the gang. 

“I don't think so,” Leon was breathless, feeling at his own limbs for any wounds. 

Perce had already sprung into action, jamming whatever he could find up against the door. Locks would only hold out for so long. The others moved to join him. 

“What do we do now?” Merlin asked no one in particular. This is what Arthur had been afraid of. The moment he had let his guard down it had happened. They had been compromised. His fingers tingled. Every fibre of Merlin’s being shouted at him to run. 

“We don't have much choice,” Arthur said, glancing meaningfully at the fire exit. “Door won't last forever.”

“Right. Um…”

“Merlin, Gwen and Gaius, get whatever supplies you can near the back door. Ready for our retreat. We'll hold them back for as long as possible,” Arthur instructed.

Gwen nodded, returning into the kitchen. Gaius followed, his face set in a determined expression. Merlin’s eyes flicked over the crowd. Something wasn't right.

“Someone isn't here,” he said. The movement stopped. 

The sound of glass shattering came from inside the airlock. 

Merlin watched as Arthur’s eyes grew wide. “Morgana! Where is my sister?”

A piercing scream erupted almost in response to the question. 

The tingle in Merlin’s fingers intensified. His arms were buzzing with energy, waiting to be unleashed. In that moment he knew where she was. 

“She's in the office,” Merlin said, launching himself towards the airlock. She was the one that had released the door to let the gang inside. 

Another scream.

There was a window. Separating the airlock from the office to allow the receptionist to decide if and when to open the door. The glass had broken. Merlin bundled in through the office door, pushed aside by Arthur.

Time stood still. Morgana was backed against the wall. Her arms raised defensively and mouth open in another scream. A young man stood a few feet away, his back towards Arthur and Merlin. There was no mistake that he had his sights set on Morgana. His suit was ripped and caked in mud and blood. He groaned. 

Morgana shrunk back even more, back firmly against the wall. Her eyes snapped to the pair behind the monster. She was crying; scared, silent tears ran down her cheeks. 

“Arthur, please,” she whispered.

He nodded. Merlin’s fingers hurt. Arthur was looking for a weapon. Morgana whimpered. The zombie launched itself onto Morgana. Another scream. More dreadful and piercing than the others.

“ARTHUR!” She was grappling with the man, trying to push his biting teeth away from her flesh. 

Merlin couldn't breath. He couldn't let this happen. Arthur had found a makeshift club and was advancing. But it was too late. Merlin knew it was too late. His fingers burned, energy coursing down his arms and pushing to be released. Morgana’s body slammed against the wall, shaking the shelf above her head. That was it. Merlin raised his hands. He didn't have to think. Files and books rained down on Morgana and the monster as Arthur reached them. It was enough of a shock to make the brute lose its grip. Morgana broke free, throwing herself to the side as Arthur swung. The zombie crumpled with a sickening crunch. 

Merlin rushed to Morgana’s side, hauling her up.

“We have to go!”

She didn't argue, letting him support her weight. More zombies were clambouring at the window. They'd soon be overrun. They edged to the door. 

Outside of the office they were met by a sharp inhale from Gwen.

“Morgana, you're bleeding!”

It was only then that Merlin became aware of the hot, sticky sensation spreading across his side. He looked down; blood was pouring thick and fast from Morgana's arm, quickly coating the pair of them. He nearly dropped her. 

“You're bitten,” Merlin said, dumbly. 

“Oh,” she said as if only just noticing. 

It had all been so fast. He couldn't even pinpoint the moment it had happened. 

Arthur barrelled past. “We need to move! They're coming through!”

He shoved at the others, pushing them towards the fire exit. Merlin was unsure whether Arthur had noticed Morgana's predicament or if he was choosing to ignore it.

Merlin grabbed at Morgana again. “Come on,” he instructed. Her body was already sagging. Her feet dragged as she tried to walk. She was too heavy. “Morgana, you need to try.”

He didn't get a response. The others rushed past, throwing emergency supplies to one another. 

The fire exit had already been busted open, Gwaine and Leon filling an abandoned ambulance with a few days rations. It would be a tight squeeze, but they'd all just about fit if they huddled tightly. 

“Merlin!” Arthur was shouting. “Hurry up!”

Morgana was slipping unconscious. Merlin's thoughts raced. He couldn't carry her. He wasn't strong enough. They didn't have time. She'd already been bitten. But there was the slim chance that she was like him. She might wake up. 

“MERLIN!” Arthur yelled again. “There's no point, come on!”

For some reason that was all Merlin needed to hear. As gently as possible, he unhooked himself from Morgana’s limp body and propped her against the wall. Her head lolled to the side, eyes rolling back in their sockets. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered before running to the exit.


End file.
